Not Yet Broken
by Shapeshifting Tango
Summary: To keep a roof over their heads and food in their bellies, Tobias Locke, a single father barely treading water, turns to crime. He knocks over a Photomat, accidentally killing a man in the process, and is sentenced to Fox River. Looking the way he does, Toby attracts the unwanted attention of a certain prison yard predator. Please help me by commenting. WARNING: non-con, m/m
1. Chapter 1

On a cold November walk, Tobias tried to pump himself up. With heavy breaths and an inner monologue, he justified his actions. Yelling in his mind, Toby pushed the blame for his lousy life and the life he was making for his daughter on anything he could come up with. It was all their fault, not his. He was angry. He needed anger to go through with this. Worry trickled in the corner of his mind, which flooded his thoughts as he neared the final block of his journey. Toby slowed a little, trying to stamp down the fear that bubbled. He leaned against the brick of an alleyway, grabbing at his skull. He was terrified of what he was going to do, but it was either this or a child going hungry and that was an easy choice to make.

With one last sigh, Toby yanked the ski-mask over his face and charged into the Photomat. Much to his delight, only he and the teenager behind the counter were around. Toby raised the gun and the kid freaked. He started blubbering and backing away, that is until he ran into the printers behind him. The boy's hands were thrown up in front of his face, like his palms could stop a bullet.

"Open the drawer and give me all the cash. Now!" Toby roared. To himself, his voice seemed to crackle with fear and waiver. He hoped this boy took him seriously. He didn't want to hurt anybody here. He just needed the money to keep he and his daughter off the streets. Narrowing his eyes, Toby gestured to the register hurriedly. Panic is a powerful master and every minute he spent in this place panic thundered louder in his veins.

"Ok, Ok, sir, please...I am just a kid. You can take the money. Just please don't shoot. Please." The child whined as his fingers fumbled over the bills. He was stuffing them into a plastic sack when the door chimed. Toby spun around and saw a man in black. Cop! He shot before he actually took a good look. What he assumed was a policeman armed and ready to take him down, was really a middle aged guy picking up his order before heading home after a long day of work. His suit soaked with blood so quickly. It was drenched in what seemed only seconds. The man dropped to his knees and then to the floor. The blood puddled on the tiles; he died before the first police lights flashed in the windows.

Toby practically ran home, the bag of money tucked in his jacket and the gun returned to his trousers. He tossed the mask into an alley and raked his fingers through his hair. What had he done, what had he done?! He had killed a man, that's what. An innocent man who probably had a family waiting at home, forever waiting. Not unlike himself, for tonight would be the last he would spend with his daughter in a long time. The police came for him the very next day. His daughter locked tightly around his neck. Crying, shouting, the mean men were taking her daddy away.

Social services would place little Anna in the care of her aunt and uncle in California. Anna had never met them for she and Daddy lived far away in the heart of Chicago. Toby nudged his little girl's head with his own, for his hands were bound, and promised her that his sister would take good care of her while he was away. Anna nodded sullenly with tear tracks dried on her cherub face. This was the day Daddy was sentenced to Fox River Penitentiary for the next ten to fifteen.


	2. Chapter 2

The bus reeked of sweat and body odor. It was as if going to prison meant you had to neglect all things respectable in the outside world, like hygiene. Toby couldn't look at anyone on the bus; as if, allowing the others to exist would mean that all of this was in fact real. That he was going away...that he would not see his daughter until she was nearly, if not, a complete adult. That was the part that hurt the most. His little girl would probably forget him in that time. He doubted she would even want to see him when he finally did get out. All she would know of him was that he was a criminal, a murderer.

Toby shook those thoughts from his head, choosing instead to count the electricity poles as they flew by. After a while he lost count but continued to watch them. They seemed almost hypnotic. And then they were there; the castle like features of the prison looming overhead, the guard towers, the razor wire. Tobias was not a religious man, but in that second, he made prayer he hoped would not fall on deaf ears.

"Alright Scum, off your asses and into a line. Step off the bus and wait for further instructions. Move it!" The transportation guard ordered, adjusting the gun on his shoulder so he could unlock the doors separating the convicts and the driver. It didn't take long to file the group off the bus. Toby stood in the middle of the pack Oreo'd between two mountains called men. Toby was shorter than average, coming in at around 5'7", but these men had to be almost six and a half feet tall. Toby couldn't make himself face forward, which would have had him staring at the brute's ass the whole way into the prison. Looking around proved to be just as awkward.

As they passed the fences surrounding the yard, prisoners leered suggestively and taunted the line of 'fish'. Toby didn't know where to look or how to act. His eyes connected with snakelike, venomous ones that almost smoldered with lust. The man's tongue slithered out of his mouth to wet his lower lip and pull it between his teeth as he gave Toby the once over. A shiver shot down Toby's spine and he shuddered visibly, much to the amusement of his admirer. He tore his eyes away from the crowd and let them sink to his shoes.

Once inside, Toby had to take off his clothes and place them in the basket on the bench. To him, it seemed like everyone else didn't feel put off by having to be naked in front of a bunch of dudes, including the guards. Toby thought to himself, 'I just need to keep calm... with a clean record I can get out on parole. If I make it to the parole hearing...' He had to stop himself there. There could not be an if. Toby was going to make it to that hearing and he was going to get out of here. He would see his daughter again, even if she didn't know him anymore. 'Just keep Anna close, she will pull me through.'

Toby finished folding his clothes neatly in the box. They were his only pair of khaki's and button down shirt. Toby couldn't afford a suit for his court appearance. He guessed that his apparel didn't help the jury to rule in his favor. A guard appeared out of nowhere, disrupting Toby's thoughts, demanding that Toby take his sorry ass into the showers to be deloused and then to be checked for anything he might be smuggling in here. Toby couldn't believe people would actually try that. But beings they have the examination, there must be a need for it.

The water in the shower was incredibly cold and it burst randomly, spraying a fine mist of the foul smelling liquid in Toby's face. The guards tossed delousing powder all over Toby and it burned his eyes. They began to water, but the shower hid it. Lucky for Toby because otherwise it would have appeared like crying. He rubbed his eyes trying his damndest to remove that horrible powder from them. No such luck. He squinted hard, to see through his watery, itchy eyes as he was led behind the screens.

"Run your hands through your hair and shake it. Ok. Now open your mouth. Lift your tongue. Right. Now, lift your balls. Turn around and spread your cheeks." Toby's face flushed with embarrassment as he did what he was asked. He flinched when he heard the glove snap against the examiner's hand. He scolded himself for not mentally preparing for this, but then again how could he have. It is not like he knew he was going to be molested on his way in. He thought another con would be the bearer of that bad news, not a CO.

He was then given two uniforms and bed linen, then sent back to his box where he dressed slowly. He felt so vulnerable after the examination, he was sure he was still blushing. He turned his stuff into the prison, watching his last articles of freedom were locked away. The man behind the counter shoved a clipboard into Toby's hands and gestured back towards the benches. He sat on the edge, his knee bouncing with anxiety as he filled out his information, medical issues, etc. It didn't take long to fill it all in.

Grabbing his stuff off the bench beside him he made his way into line, at the head of which was a mean looking CO. His face pinched and eyes dead, like marbles, as he recited his orientation. Toby didn't want to talk to him but knew it was inevitable. The line quickly disappeared. Toby gulped as he stood in front of Officer Bellick, the nametag read.

"Name and backnumber." He snarled without looking up.

"Um, Locke, Tobias. 96253." Toby stuttered, choosing to look at the papers in Bellick's hands.

"You a religious man, Locke?" Again he did not look up.

"No, no Sir." Toby was getting flustered with his inability to speak properly.

"Good 'cause the ten commandments don't mean a box of piss in here. We got two commandments and two only. The first commandment is you got nothing coming." Bellick wrote something down on the sheets in his fist, seemingly done with his sentence.

"And what about commandment number two?" Toby asked gingerly. Finally Bellick lifting his gaze and a slow smirk grew.

"See commandment number one." He sneered, looking Toby up and down, sizing him up. What Toby didn't know was that Bellick was a sadist that sold pretty, young fish to the prison predators. Toby just made that list. His short, lean stature and shaggy brown hair would catch the attention of every predator in this joint. Bellick stood to make some serious cash.


	3. Chapter 3

Finally, he and his bus mates were led into the cellblocks. The cons locked in the cells were very loud. Toilet paper flew through the air and again the leering and suggestive comments ensued. This time Toby knew not to look about. Bellick took them to the middle of the room. This acted as a sort of show for any cons wanting to buy a boy, but the auction had just started. Bellick would place the pretty ones in with safe cons till the bidding was over. The aryans took in most of the boys, they were insatiable and went through boys so quickly with their rough ways that were constantly in need of more. Bellick expected that they would be willling to pay quite a bit for the inmate 96253.

Toby shifted awkwardly in the line. It was harder not to look at the cons when he was just standing in the midst of them. His shoes were not that interesting and he knew that having his head hang like that would appear to be defeat, or fear. Both of which he was feeling, but neither could he actually let the others see. So he lifted his head and tilted it back and forth, pretending that he was stretching it rather that staring at his new prison boots.

He looked straight ahead, trying to let his vision go out of focus but with all the noise and TP floating around him he could not seem to faze out. Instead he saw all the eyes watching him and what he saw in those eyes made him want to run away and hide in some hole. He put on his poker face, trying to wipe away all emotions. He hoped that it worked but he had only started. These men had been doing the poker face for much longer than he and were probably just as skilled at seeing through them.

One set of eyes caught onto Toby's for the second time. The man from the yard leaned into the bars of his cell. His arms draped over the outside, and that tongue of his still tracing that lower lip. The weirdest thing was that he was one of the few not shouting at the new comers. He just sat there, staring. A sinking feeling formed in Toby's gullet that he couldn't seem to shake.

Finally Bellick separated the line into groups that headed to each of the three tiers. Toby was placed in a cell with an old man on the main floor. He didn't seem to notice Toby. He just kept reading his book and stroking the silky fur of his purring feline. With a sigh, Tobias turned away from the cell door, wishing that everyone in here ignored him as his cellmate did. He set his articles on the top bunk, beings that was the one the old man was not laying on.

Once he finished dressing the bed and placing his toothpaste and such near the sink, Toby slouched against the wall facing the older man. Again the man did not acknowledge him. He turned the page and released a tender sigh. The book he read was Huckleberry Finn. Filled with such tales of adventure, Toby could understand the man's quiet wish to be out in the fresh air enjoying freedom like Huck.

"That was one of my favorite books as a kid." Toby stated, dropping his eyes to the the sheet hanging over the side of the bed.

"Hmm?" The man tore himself away from his mental freedom. "Ah, yes, it was mine as well." His lips twitched into almost a smile. Toby took this as a sign that conversation was now approved.

"I'm Tobias Locke." Toby stretched out his hand.

"Charles Westmoreland." He nodded and took ahold of Toby's hand. "And this is Marilyn." He patted the cat's little head.

"She is adorable, but I didn't know we could have pets?"

"We can't. She is grandfathered in from a time when inmates were allowed a creature comfort or two. After she is gone, that's it. No more." He eyed his little friend softly, his palm resting on her side. She purred a little louder, just for him. Toby could tell that she meant the world to him. Marilyn was Charles' family in here.

"I hope that isn't for a long time." Charles nodded to Toby. Just then, a buzzer shocked Toby from his crouching pose.

Charles chuckled a bit, "It's time for dinner, Boy. Don't get yourself all worked up." Toby couldn't help but laugh at himself. He had been scared by the dinner bell. Then again, he was scared of everything in this place.


	4. Chapter 4

Toby followed Charles out into the yard the next day. He had to bob and weave to get around the inmates who seemed to make it a point to bump into or push him. Charles on the other hand, leisurely strolled over to a set of benches holding Marilyn to his chest. With a huff, Toby plopped down beside him. Charles couldn't help but chuckle at how the younger man was acting. It was like Toby expected the people in here to be courteous and step out of each others way. It only made it tougher that Tobias was good looking. The cons had it out for him. He was a pretty boy.

From their vantage point, Toby could see almost all of the yard. It was clear that race was a big deal in here. All of the black people were grouped in one part of the yard, the hispanic people in another, etc. It was bewildering to Toby to see that though his world on the outside had been colorblind, in here color was everything.

Charles was a nice man, but he wasn't much of a talker. Toby grew bored of just sitting there and decided to stretch his legs for a bit. That was the whole reason for being out here in the yard in the first place. Avoiding the larger groups, Toby made his way to the fence line and began to follow it around humming a tune his daughter loved. He warmed his hands in his pockets, feeling inside one of them for a picture of his little girl. He had taken the photo on her sixth birthday. Even though it was a little bit outdated, he needed to keep her close to him.

His second time around, a little ray of sun broke through the clouds. Toby stopped to enjoy it, sitting lightly on the top of the bleachers. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, bathing in this new found warmth. A slight smile played on his lips, but faded quickly as he heard feet climb the bleachers. Toby's head snapped forward and his eyes opened.

"Well, well, don't you just look all lonely up here." The southern drawl leaked from the cold-eyed man. His group gathered at the bottom of the bleachers, all but a man with a faux hawk who clung tightly to the pocket of the southern man. Toby tilted his head slightly to the side, unsure of whether he was being threatened or not.

"Just enjoying the sun." He replied, a weariness in his voice. The group smiled, some even snickered. The southern man climbed another step towards Toby, a sly grin plastered on his face.

"Mmmm, mm, ain't we all." He paused to leer at Toby. "But a boy like you could use some...protection...in a place like this. Can't go all dreamy eyed whenever the sun shows up and not have someone watching your back." He licked his lips again, leaning forward to rest his forearm on the leg he pressed on the bench beside Toby. He was towering over Toby now and way too close. Suddenly it was clear to Toby that these men were definitely threatening.

"Well, thanks but, um, no thanks. I don't need protection." Toby stuttered, uncomfortable with the closeness of this man.

His face suddenly grew cold and dangerous, then just as quickly it relaxed. Toby stood automatically, leaning back as to not bump into the older man. "Calm yourself, Boy," The man gestured for Toby to sit back down, "and tell ol' T-Bag what's your name?"

Toby continued standing. He couldn't seem to follow this guy. One second he was threatening him and the next he is asking his name. "Tobias Locke...and you are?" Toby tried to make his voice stop shaking.

"I already told you, Sunny, my name is T-Bag. Didn't your mama teach you to listen?" He straightened, looking Toby straight in the eye even though he was on the step below him. Again, the lust in his eyes was very noticeable and Toby had to look away. The younger man, clinging to T-Bag's pocket glared daggers at Toby.

Fidgeting, Toby tried to step to the side, but T-bag and company followed suit. "Listen T-Bag, I don't want trouble, ok? May I leave?" Toby tried to reason with the man. A low chuckle spread throughout the pack.

"Now, now, no need to get all feisty on me, fish." T-Bag sneered. "I just want to make sure you understand. Those niggers are gonna come for you soon, and they are gonna rip you in half boy." He paused to lick his lips. "You need protection. Protection that I can offer, for a..eehh...small price. You just gotta hold onto my pocket." He smacked the faux hawked man's hand away, twisting the fabric between two fingers.

The disgust was evident on Toby's face. He shook his head. "You already have a girlfriend..." T-Bag patted his bitch's shoulder tenderly and the man glared again at Toby.

"I don't know if you noticed, but I DO have two pockets." The southerner leered.

"Again, thanks but no thanks." Toby looked off into the yard. T-Bag slapped his bitch's hand away as the man reached to take the pocket back and stepped into Toby's space.

"Then you better leave. Now. And don't let me catch you back here, fish." With that T-Bag leaned forward enough to throw Toby off balance. Biting onto his lip, he watched as Toby fell over the backside of the bleachers and landed hard on the ground. A shocked and painful moan escaped Toby, the breath knocked out of him. He coughed and rolled onto his side, struggling to stand. And there was T-Bag, laughing, 'helping' Toby off the ground. Toby was pulled to his feet, feeling T-Bag's hands wander his ass and abdomen on the way up. He dusted Toby off, and in a low sultry voice said, "Run along now, Sunny. Run along."

Toby, with eyes like saucers didn't wait around. He split, walking as fast as he could back to the bench with Charles. He heard the group laughing at him as he did so. Helping him up like that was T-Bag's way of marking his territory, a good portion of the yard kept tabs on the encounter. Upon his arrival, Toby put his face in his hands and sighed a sigh that was more than fear and frustration. It was every emotion Toby had felt thus far and the stress that was building inside him.

Charles eyed him but didn't say anything for a long time, he had seen similar confrontations with T-Bag. They all ended the same for the boys. Finally, when Toby was ready to sit up again, "You need to steer clear of Theodore Bagwell. He is dangerous." That was all he had to say, as if Toby hadn't already realized that T-bag was a dangerous individual. The sun had hidden behind the clouds again and out of the corner of his eye, Toby could see T-Bag sitting on the top of the bleachers watching him. He fought to suppress a shudder.


	5. Chapter 5

During T time, which is when the inmates can roam free about the tiers, Toby stayed in his cell with Charles. He wouldn't hide away for long, but didn't want to run into T-Bag again. Watching the other cons wander back and forth, conversing and fighting with each other; he looked up to the higher tiers, it was hard to accept that he was really here. Toby was barely more than one day old in here and already he was being pressed to be someone's bitch. He didn't know if that was normal or not but he felt ridiculous and scared. Normally Toby was a socializer, he would shortly become the center of attention at any party but in here, he didn't want anyone to notice him and he couldn't seem to keep under the radar.

Just then, an inmate was escorted back into the cell block. He was a tall guy with a furrowed brow and barely any hair on his shaven dome. The man walked with such confidence and purpose all the way to his cell, on the second tier. How could he be so cool in here? Toby was afraid to move half the time, and this guy seemed completely unfazed by prison life. He had to admire him, to some extent because of it.

Westmoreland soon became Toby's Google of sorts. Any inmate, Toby wanted to know more about, Charles seemed to know it all. The confident guy was Michael Scofield. He robbed a bank and got five years here for it. Michael thought that Charles was actually some D.B. Cooper guy, who jacked a million dollars they didn't see how Westmoreland could do that with his quiet, calm, demeanor. Anything is possible, though, who would have thought that Tobias could kill a guy. No one.

Charles mentioned to Toby that he should also watch out for the mob boss John Abruzzi. He runs almost everything in here, got some guards on payroll too. It's a scary thought that an inmate like that could do whatever he pleases. Toby made a note to stay out of the Italians' way. Like T-Bag, who he had learned raped and killed six kids in Alabama, Toby doubted if there would be much choice of avoiding them.

"LIGHTS OUT IN FIVE!" A guard name Geary shouted. Most of the inmates ignored him for now, but some started moving toward their cells. Toby rolled over on his bunk and stared at the ceiling, hands resting behind his head. The dull murmuring of conversation ebbed into silence as the cell doors locked and most of the lights cut out, leaving only a haunting glow.

"Oh, Sunny. I know you're awake in there..." T-Bag half sang into the night. Toby knew he was talking to him, but he would not respond. There was no need. T-Bag knew he was listening. So, he taunted Toby. T-Bag spun innuendoes and barely hidden threats. Turning down his pocket was not the end of this thing T-Bag had for Toby. If anything, pissing him off might have been a bad idea. Not that Toby was rethinking his decision. No, being Bagwell's bitch was not something he wanted to accept. After a while, Toby finally drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Bellick was getting bids left and right for the boy in with Westmoreland. The aryan group led by T-Bag, also known as the Alliance for Purity, had yet to place theirs. Bellick knew that was the one to wait for. He saw T-Bag approach the boy the other day. He also saw him push the boy and then 'help' him back up. Oh, the Alliance was very interested in inmate 96253, Tobias Locke. With the money he was going to make on this kid, he could buy himself a 3D television. He heard bad reviews for those, but hell, when you have the money, why not.

As the buzzer sounded and the cell doors opened for morning call, Bellick made sure to make eye contact with T-Bag and he was not disappointed. The slight nod meant later today, Bellick would have their bid. The inmates heading to the cafeteria for breakfast, which today was runny eggs and greasy hash with stale bread and bitter orange juice. Toby, eyes still clouded with sleep, or lack thereof, didn't notice that he had lost Westmoreland nor that T-Bag had slipped in line right behind him.

"Sleep well, Sunny? I know I did. Wanna guess what I dreamed about?" T-Bag almost whispered into Toby's ear. A shudder went through him and he picked up the pace. T-Bag laughed to himself and sped up as well. He made sure Sunny knew he was breathing down his neck the whole way to the cafeteria. Once they were among the tables, T-Bag split to go sit with his gang of Purity, where his bitch was waiting, angry that his protector was eyeing other toys. Toby only relaxed when he found an empty table in the corner of the room farthest from the doors unfortunately. This meant he would have to walk by T-Bag and his crew on his way out to the yard.

Toby stared at his food more than he ate it, it was the worst food he had had in a long time. It was made by inmates so Toby just hoped that all he was eating was food. He rushed through his meal, wanting to be outside more that anything, right now. Again the day was cloudy but at the moment, sun still could shine through the wispy clouds streaming across the sky. They made water like shadows in the dead grass that played with the eyes.

It seemed like once again the best sun was over on T-Bag's bleachers, but this time he stayed away, while another prisoner made the mistake of sitting on them. Toby could see Michael Scofield playing with the bits holding the structure together. It was probably a nervous habit. T-Bag was still inside eating, so Michael was in the clear for now. Toby turned away from him and sat at one of the chess tables, toying with the pieces, he played against himself for a while.

T-Bag exited the building with his usual flare and much to his delight, another fish was sitting on his bleachers. They just kept coming didn't they. T-Bag would have to get more pockets the way this was working out. He would have to start calling his bitches by weekdays, he chuckled to himself as he sauntered over to confront this fish. Of course, he wouldn't have to ask his name. See Michael was making waves with those blue eyes of his. Hell, T-Bag knew exactly who he was from across the yard and he had to admit, the reviews weren't even close to what he was actually like. T-Bag sucked his lower lip into his mouth and let his tongue dance across the outside. Scofield.

Toby twirled a pawn between his pointer finger and thumb, looking about the yard. He noticed the races pushing at the edges of their areas. A white guy wandered onto black territory and was immediately stepped to by a large group, forcing him to leave. As yard time come to an end, it had all but come to blows. Tobias had never seen so many people so worked up. He shook his head and kept out of the way as he walked back inside.


	6. Chapter 6

Toby decided to take his chances and lean on the outside of his cell door during T time. The racial tension continued to boil. Keeping tabs on the goings on, Toby noticed that Michael was in rummaging through T-Bag's cell. What a strange man. Earlier that day, T-Bag approached him with his pocket and he said no, of course. Then, he shows up on the bleachers again and T-Bag took something from him. Now he is in the man's cell. This Scofield was an enigma to Toby.

Just then T-Bag and his goons returned from outside, and caught Michael in the cell. Toby couldn't make out what they are saying but it was obvious that Michael wasn't going to get what he wanted. As he stormed out and up to his cell, T-Bag noticed Toby watching and winks at him with a wicked smirk that made Toby's stomach sink like a stone in his gut. That is something Toby didn't know how to handle so he broke away from the cell door and headed into the cell itself. Crouching he pet Marilyn and she mewed at him softly. Charles lounged on his bunk, again reading the adventures of Huck Finn. Toby was sure he had read the entire book twice in the few days they had known each other.

"Count!" a CO bellowed. With a few grumbles, Toby helped Charles to his feet and step out onto the yellow line for roll call. With his hands in his pockets, Toby shifted his weight back and forth, from heel to toe, like a child. He waited for the CO to call his name, when one of the Aryans ran across the space and stabbed a black inmate. The place erupted into violence. Michael got tossed over the tier rail but seems to be ok. Toby tried to return to his cell but was drug away by the back of his shirt and tossed into the middle of the floor. He spun around to see a muscular black dude stalking toward him, shank in one hand and hate in his eyes. Toby scrambled to his feet in just enough time to dodge a jab to what would have been his face.

Swing by swing, the black inmate backed Tobias into a corner. Toby shrank back as much as possible, praying again to a god he didn't believe in. The hulk tensed and his blade glinted in the lights. Toby squeezed his eyes shut and then nothing happened, rather Toby heard a slight gurgle. Toby gasped, wide-eyed, as his pursuer fell bleeding to the ground. "You owe me, Sunny." T-bag growled before again disappearing into the battle. Shaken, Toby finally made his way back to his cell. Charles was already inside, holding Marilyn and watching warily for attackers.

"You alright, kid?" Westmoreland asked, eyes still searching the crowd. With a deep breath, Toby nodded, not trusting his voice to back him up in this situation. "Good, thought you were a goner for a second there."

Toby looked at the old man for a second before watching the crowd as well. "Are you alright, Charles?"

"Yeah, this isn't my first rodeo." He shrugged. The two settled into silence as gas cans are shot into the cell block. The smoke filled Toby's lungs and he began coughing uncontrollably. His ribs hurt and his eyes burned.

Through the pain, he heard a distinct southern twang, "SCOFIELD!" Toby was terrified for Michael, though he was sure Scofield was feeling enough of that for the both of them. Inmates raced to get to their cells and out of the gas before they are locked in no-man's-land. After a minute or two the cell doors slammed shut and the gas was filtered out. It was silent for a while, the warden said we would be in lockdown for 48 hours. T-Bag put this time to use torturing Michael all night instead of Toby. Not that Toby felt lucky, because T-bag lost his bitch today...and now he owed T-Bag his life.

Those two days were a blur of boredom. Toby paced his cell and tried to work out. He read a book and wrote a letter to his angel. He didn't tell her anything about the prison. Instead he told her about Marilyn and about the sunshine, and the way the clouds made the earth look like liquid. Tobias hoped that his letters would show Anna that he was not a monster, really.

Toby took out the photo of his little girl and circled her adorable little face. She looked so much like her mother when she smiled. He missed them both so much. It had been years since his wife had passed. Anna probably didn't even remember who she was, she was so young then. Hell, Anna was only 8 now. Her entire world turned upside down because Daddy couldn't keep them above water. He had her when he was only 16, his parents threw him out. He wasn't equipped to care for Anna and Jolene. Toby brought the image to his lips and he softly kissed his daughter's face. The wind kicked through the yard, fluttering the edges of the wallet sized photo. Big emerald eyes, squinting in the bright light and dark brown hair, like his own. His little angel.

"What's that you lookin' at, Sunny?" T-Bag sauntered up. Toby jumped a bit and stuffed the photo in his pocket. "Missing your girl already, are we?" Bagwell giggled to himself. "I'm 'fraid, unless you're hitched, you won't be seeing that poon in a LONG time, Boy." Toby stood up and moved to walk away, but T-Bag doesn't give up easily.

Toby glared at the dirt ahead of him trying his best to shake the creepy pedophile. "It does appear, I've hit a nerve. You got something you don't want me to know about?" T-Bag kept pace with Toby.

"Back off, Bagwell. I am tired of your shit. And I am not interested in what you have to offer, so why do you keep bothering me?" Toby stopped walking and faced the rapist.

"I keep bothering you because I have a vacancy in MY cell and You, owe me." T-Bag simmered. "Now in a day or two, I am gonna arrange for you to move cells. You are goin'a move in with me, ya hear." Toby glared at Bagwell for a second before walking away again. This time T-Bag did not follow. "So if you got secrets, you better get ready to share 'em, Sunny."

T-Bag always had to push the envelope. There was no way to back out of this problem. Bagwell had already paid Bellick and he did have an open bunk. Toby couldn't ignore orders from Bellick and his complaints would not be given credit because Bellick ran cell assignments. To top it off, Toby still owed T-Bag. He was caught between a rock and a hard place, and he figured that T-bag's cell was the 'hard' place.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Thank you so much to Spitfire47 and Eva for your reviews. It means a lot to me that you guys took the time to write them and that you are reading this story at all :D

AN: This Chapter has pre-slash which may make some readers uncomfortable. If you are one of these readers, you obviously didn't catch that this story is rated M, involves T-Bag, and has a warning attached to the summary :) Now, to the story. Enjoy.

Again on the way to breakfast, as he had for nearly every meal, T-Bag followed Toby. He kept bumping into him and each time T-Bag made sure to rub against him in a sexual manner. Toby tried to lose T-Bag in the crowd but T-Bag maneuvered it with ease. "You know, you have such a pretty mouth on you, Sunny. I cannot wait to get better acquainted with it." T-Bag walked parallel to Toby, leaning in real close to stress the acquaintance waiting to be made in his cell.

"Not going to happen, T-Bag. I'm not gay." Toby muttered just loud enough for Bagwell to catch.

"Now, I don't care what your sexuality is, Sunny, so you can just keep on fooling yourself into thinking you have a choice." T-bag sauntered away finally. Fear filled Toby like winter in his veins. Gooseflesh spread about his body and refused to ebb. Again the food was shit and again Toby sat at the only table empty. His solitude didn't last long as within a few minutes plates were dropped on the table and the Purity began to fill the chairs. They had all moved from their table in the middle of the room to his, some even dragging along their own chairs to make everyone fit.

Toby shrank back into his chair and gripped his fork in his fist to be a weapon if need be. No one spoke to him. They just continued talking and laughing as though he were not there. Then a hand squeezed his shoulder and slid down his arm, taking a seat right next to him. Toby didn't have to look up to know it was Bagwell. He grabbed his tray and started to rise but Bagwell pushed him back into his seat.

"Where do you think you are going? Huh, Sunny?" T-Bag left his hand resting on the younger man's shoulder. Toby knew he wouldn't be going anywhere without T-Bag's approval right now.

"Nowhere now, I guess..." Toby growled.

"You got that right, boy." T-Bag bit his lower lip lightly. "Quick learner we got here," Bagwell all but laughed. The group laughed for him and then continued to ignore Toby, but Bagwell paid extra close attention. His hand roamed from shoulder to knee and Toby leaned as far away as possible. It seemed like forever till the aryans finally started to leave. Tobias hoped that Bagwell would go with them, but he waved them on; leaving just he and the fish sitting there.

Before Bagwell could even begin to mentally molest Toby, he jumped from his seat. Though T-Bag managed to grip part of his shirt, dragging Bagwell to his feet as well, Toby yanked away and with a glare he walked at a breakneck speed to the yard. T-Bag ambled after him, feeling no need to rush this cat and mouse game of theirs. "They always think they can run away..." T-Bag chuckled to himself.

Outside, Toby watched Michael Scofield limp through the yard. He didn't know what happened to the guy, but assumed it was the issues he was causing with Abruzzi. The other day Abruzzi's goons beat Michael and the guy managed to smack Abruzzi himself in the face before the guards shut them down. So far, Toby had not run into the mafioso. That was the only bit of luck he had managed to scrape together in here.

Toby sat with Westmoreland today, hoping that the old head would keep the likes of T-Bag over in his little corner of the yard. That didn't keep the creep from staring the whole time though, and that alone put Toby on edge. He bounced his knee, anxiety churning his stomach, though that may have been the food. Toby wanted T-Bag to die; he wanted enough money to buy back his cell with Westmoreland. He knew that's how T-Bag was getting Bellick to switch him. He knocked his head for ideas but the only guy in here with that kind of money available was Abruzzi.

Yard time ended and Toby headed to his cell for a nap before lunch, but Bellick stopped him just outside his cell. "You got a cell transfer, fish." The pig snorted. Toby was sure he paled to a sickly white, he hadn't thought that the transfer would be today. Bellick only sneered and shoved a box in the younger man's hands. "Pack up. You got two minutes."

Bellick trudged behind Toby. He could see why Bagwell was taking this one in. Toby was small and had a hard time standing up for himself. He probably got beat in high school by the bullies. Of course, those bullies didn't want in his pants like the ones in here did. Unfortunately, Toby didn't have many belongings. He couldn't drag out his final two minutes with Westmoreland. The older man nodded a sad goodbye to Toby who attempted a weak smile in return. Westmoreland was a good guy, and not bad company if you had the patience. He'd almost become a sort of father figure to Toby.

T-Bag relaxed in the doorway of his cell, watching as Bellick led the terrified fish to his new home. A sadistic smile spread across his face, fresh meat and good tail. He could practically smell the waves of fear coming off the kid. Tonight would be a first of many that he would have Toby lying on his stomach. For that, T-Bag was positively giddy. Toby, on the other hand, wished he could just disappear.

Bagwell didn't move as Toby tried to make his way inside the cell, forcing the younger man to brush against him. He smirked to Bellick and followed his new toy inside. His eyes traveled the length of the man as he placed his belongings about the cell.

"You get top bunk Sunny." Bagwell breathed into the back of Toby's neck, sending tendrils of ice down his spine. Toby swallowed and nodded. He started to climb up the beds when Bagwell hands ran along his frame.

Tobias froze mid climb, "Don't touch me, T-Bag." He finished climbing onto his bed. T-bag threw his hands in the air in mock innocence.

"Just trying help ya out, Sunny. No need to get all flustered, yet." With a huff, Toby rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling; knowing full well that Bagwell was still watching him. He dreaded to think about what would happen after lights out, but he already had a good idea.

The day seemed to fly by and with each passing minute Toby grew tenser. The evening count concluded, the cons were locked into their cells. Now Toby was alone with T-bag but the lights were still ablaze. The only security Toby had was that the guards could still see him. He clung to the bars, his breath erratic. His heart pounded at his ribcage, as if trying to break free. Bagwell sauntered up behind his scared boy and gripped his hips. He pressed himself against Toby, his semi hard cloth cover cock rubbing over the younger man's ass. He loved the way Toby flinched away, tightening his ass cheeks instinctually. Bagwell chuckled and made an appreciative noise in his throat.

"You are gonna be well worth my money, and patience. I can tell that already, Sunny." The rapist cooed in Toby's ear. Grinding slightly against the younger man, he pushed him against the bars. "It's almost lights out..." He let the threat hang in the air.

Toby squirmed and broke away from the bars. Away from Bagwell, but he had nowhere to run. It wasn't like the yard or the cafeteria. He was locked in a small cell with this rapist. Pedophile. Murderer. There was no escaping him. Not this time.


	8. Chapter 8

AN: Eva, thanks for the kudos lol. I aim to please. :)

AN: Dear readers, graphic non-con ensues in this chapter. I am gonna post two today so you can get the bad taste of this chapter out of your mouth lol. Poor Toby.

"Lights out, cons!" A CO thundered and within seconds Toby's world grew shadowed and quiet. It was too quiet, like the cons were waiting to hear Toby's muffled screams of agony. Toby had spent the rest of the day in his bunk, pressed against the wall. He had to listen to T-Bag whistle and hum some cheery tune that ironically caused Toby even more fear. Now that the lights were gone, Toby felt the bunks shift as Bagwell stood up.

The older man stretched out his arms and popped his back a few times before turning around and settling his cold eyes on Toby, who was trying his hardest to sink into the wall behind him. Bagwell lurched forward, grabbing a fistful of Toby's hair in one hand and his clothes in the other. He was dragged from the bed and thrown against the concrete wall on the other side of the cell. With a crack, his head smashed against the wall and bounced, Tony felt dizzy for a second, but was then thrown to and pressed against the bars for the second time that day. This time, Bagwell was not careful with his body.

He crashed against Toby, just as Toby did the bars. The younger man stifled a moan as blood began to drip from his forehead. T-Bag pumped his hips into Toby's clothed ass and wrapped his arm around the boy's throat. He had no room to move and not enough air to fight. Bagwell licked his lips and then the side of Toby's neck. The boy even tasted of fear. He chuckled against the flesh and nibbled his way up to Toby's ear, which he sucked on lightly for a second. His other hand traveled to the hemn of Toby's prison issue pants.

"Reach up and let that there sheet down, Sunny." Bagwell sighed, but Toby didn't move. He was a statue of desperation. He thought about yelling out but T-Bag had him by the throat. It wouldn't take much to stifle the scream.

"No way, Bagwell." Toby gasped. His knuckles turning white as he gripped the bars.

"Either you lower that there sheet, Boy, or I take you anyway and everybody watches..." The rapist grunted. He couldn't care less, either way he was getting what he wanted. Toby's hand rose slow and shaky to the tape above the door frame. T-Bag pulled him away from the bars as the sheet quietly slid into place, obscuring the already dark room to mere shadowy forms. "Good boy." Bagwell shoved Toby down into his bunk.

Panic swelled in Tobias's chest and he retched away from his aggressor. Fight or flight throbbing in his muscles. Flight was out of the question, so Toby tensed his body and clenched his fists. Bagwell seemed amused by this change in action. He liked when they tried to fight him off. It meant he could beat the will out of them. In one step, T-Bag was in Toby's face, daring him to throw a punch. Shocked by the southerner's speed, Toby took an involuntary step back. That was all T-Bag needed to see to know that this whelp wouldn't be hard to break.

His fist connected with Toby's gut knocked the breath out of him. The younger man doubled over, wheezing only to have T-bag's knee come up to meet his face. Toby stumbled backwards, groaning as his nose gushed blood. Bagwell stepped into his space again and Toby threw his fist. It cracked across the pedophile's jaw and T-Bag's head whipped to the side. Just as suddenly, Bagwell was staring into Toby's eyes again, but this time it was too dark to see the mix of lust and murder in them. Toby could sense the danger in the air and he wound up for another punch, but T-Bag was quicker. He grabbed Toby's head in both hands and knocked it hard against the wall. The younger man relinquished a painful groan and lost his footing.

In barely a second Bagwell straddled Toby's hips, punching Toby's face repeatedly. The boy's vision faded in and out, blood filled his mouth. He coughed between swings, spattering T-bag's shirt with red spots. Toby's head lolling to the side and Bagwell seised his attack only to rip the shirt from the younger man's body. He trailed his sinful fingers across Toby's chest and down his stomach, admiring the solid, yet undefined, muscle till he reached the hem of his pants for the second time.

Bagwell made short work of those as well, all the while skillfully keeping hold of the squirming inmate below him. It was quite evident that Theodore had done this many times. With one hand pressed against Toby's throat T-Bag slid his own shirt over his head. He tightened his grip, cutting off air to Toby's lungs when the younger man bucked against him. He refused to release the boy till he saw Toby's eyes bug out in desperation to breathe. Toby gulped in air almost like the fish he was.

Grasping Toby's arm, Bagwell flipped him over and shoved the younger man's arm up the middle of his back. The boy cried out, a cry which soon faded to whimpering. He couldn't move without dislocating his shoulder and felt T-Bag's erection press against his thigh. It was almost too much for T-Bag, watching the way Toby's shoulders slightly shook with choked sobs. T-Bag wanted to cause as much pain as possible. He wanted to mark Toby's milky flesh with cuts and bruises. Theodore wanted even more so to stain the inside of Toby too heavily to ever fade away, like the tattoos of the pretty Scofield. With no warning, no preparation, T-Bag thrust himself deep into the boy's impossibly tight hole.

A scream erupted from Toby's mouth that echoed in the cell block, agony laced in every octave. It was met by cheers, thunderously loud, louder than the riot had been days earlier, or at least that was how it sounded to Toby. T-Bag almost warned him that the bleeding was caused more by Toby thrashing and trying to get away after already being impaled, but it was all too good. He pulled nearly all the way out and slammed home again, this time clamping his hand over Toby's mouth. One scream was to claim his bitch, any more would bring in the pigs and end their fun.

T-Bag laid kisses and bites on Toby's shoulders, thrusting as deep as he could into the boy. The blood and precum acting as lube, it became easier for the both of them, but the pain was still unbearable. Toby sobbed but he no longer fought, he had felt his ass rip open and with every move he made, he felt it open more. He choked on muffled please-stops and oh-god-it-hurts. T-Bag's vicious rhythm stroked against Toby's prostate, forcing the younger man to be racked with pleasure and pain at the same time. Moans of both blended with T-Bag's grunts above him.

Bagwell released a noise from within his throat and buried himself in Toby's ass as he filled the cavern with his hot seed. It burned in Toby's wounds as he pulled out and it leaked from the boy's tender hole. T-Bag fell forward, resting on top of the boy's body, huffing erratic breaths into his shaggy hair. He patted his new toy's head and trailed his fingers along the younger man's side. "You were definitely worth my money, Sunny. Mmmhmm, best fuck in years..."

T-Bag lifted himself off his bitch to clean the blood off of himself and went to bed. Toby didn't dare to move for the longest time, the pain throbbed in ass and his face. He just lay there, damaged in unimaginable ways for hours. It wasn't until he could hear his attackers snores that he managed to reach for his clothes and recover his battered body. The nurse would come for him in the morning, there was no way the staff didn't know what would happen to him that night. He just had to wait till morning, he repeated to himself.

Toby couldn't lift himself up into his bunk. T-Bag likely made him have the top bunk just because of this. He would have to choose between sleeping on the cement or in the same bunk as his rapist. More torture. Toby doubted it would ever end. He laid back down on the floor, careful to avoid the puddles he had created there. It was so cold, he shivered and winced at the pain of everything. Eventually he drifted into nightmares, reliving again and again what had just happened to him.


	9. Chapter 9

Bellick strolled into the cellblock and headed straight for T-bag's cell to survey the damage and how best to go about getting the kid to the infirmary without sending Bagwell to the SHU. When he arrived he was astonished by how many smears of blood covered the cell. Both cons continued to sleep, Toby having never moved all night. Bellick would have to wake them both before the rest of the block and have them clean it up before he could do anything.

Using his keys, to avoid any unnecessary noise, Officer Bellick opened cell 16. He tapped Bagwell first, "You couldn't have cleaned this mess last night, Bagwell?"

"Well, Boss, I was a little busy at the time..." A drowsy yawn escaped the con.

"Get your ass up and clean it now. Your boy is still sleeping in his filth." Bellick grunted with disgust. "Get him cleaned up as well. I'll take him to the doc in about an hour, when the rest of the trash wakes up." With that Bellick spun on his heel, relocked the door, and headed for some coffee. The kid must have put up some kind of fight to make that kind of mess.

In the cell, T-Bag chuckled to himself as he looked about, seeing all damage he'd managed to do to his toy, and the paintings they'd created with their sexual escapade. Stretching once more, he finally climbed out of bed and crouched beside Toby's sleeping face, he looked so innocent in his sleep. Even with the black eyes, bloody nose, and a busted, swollen lip; he looked delectable. It almost saddened Theodore to wake him. Almost.

T-Bag lightly smacked the boy's face a few times. He came to rather quickly for all the energy spent last night. Toby's eyes blink a few times before settling on Bagwell. The boy's surged with fear and he scooted himself to the wall. T-Bag chuckled softly, "Easy, Sunny, we gotta get you and our cell cleaned up to meet the doc." He leaned closer to his boy, enjoying every bit of the terror he saw.

Toby finally looked around and all he saw was little bits of himself splattered here and there, some of him pooled in the spot where T-Bag raped him. Toby rushed to the toilet, ignoring the pain it caused, and vomited everything he had left in him. T-Bag laughed behind him and gingerly patted the boy's back. "There, there, Sunny."

Toby shrugged him off, "Don't touch me, T-Bag." His voice was hoarse from screaming.

"You do not tell me what to do, bitch." T-Bag warned, smacking the boy's hip which sent waves of pain from his ass. "Now, get out of those clothes and clean yourself up." T-Bag grabbed the shirt from Toby and wetted it in the sink to use as a washcloth. He just managed to wipe up the final sticky puddle when the lights turned on. T-Bag returned to the sink, rinsing the rag as best he could. He tossed it under the bunk with the rest of Toby's soiled clothes.

Bagwell leaned against the top bunk, rubbing his chest and stomach. A slow smile played on his lips as he watched the boy try to reclaim his dignity. Toby sat awkwardly on the floor by the cell door. The sheet now safely taped up again, he watched the other cons wake, waiting for the time when he could finally get away from Theodore Bagwell. Toby knew enough about prison to know that he couldn't say a damn thing about anything if he wanted to survive this place. People abused a punk, but they killed a snitch.

-

Toby stood in Dr. Tancredi's office, looking out the window. She had sunlight that streamed in from rising sun. The warmth on Toby's face was all that was keeping him together at this point. That and his little girl far away in sunny California. He was willing to bet that she was enjoying this sun right now, too. The doctor shut the door quietly behind her, carrying Toby's file in her other hand. She could see as she entered a red spot forming on the back of Toby's trousers. He was still bleeding, which meant that he was going to need quite a few stitches.

"Good morning, Toby." She winced at the phrase. His morning couldn't be going that well. "I am Doctor Tancredi. Do you have any allergies to pain medications that you neglected to write down?"

"Um...no, Doc. Not that I know of." Toby didn't turn around. He was afraid to see the sympathy in her eyes...the pity.

"Alright, could you remove your clothing Mr. Locke and put on this gown." She set it on the table next to him. "I will be back in a minute to begin your examination."

Toby stared at the gown for a while, he didn't want her to see how weak he was. To see his wounds. It took everything he had to do as she asked, but by the time she returned he was gowned and sitting on the examination table. She could tell in his eyes that he had checked out for now, not that she blamed him. She wouldn't have wanted to be poked and prodded after what had happened to him. She had him lay back and she lowered the gown to drape across his nether-regions. She examined all his upper body and facial wounds before asking him to turn over. She couldn't help but blush for him in asking it. He complied, obviously still far away. She made note of all the bite marks that broke the skin of his back and shoulders.

Repositioning her patient as gingerly as she could, Dr. Tancredi prepared for the most invasive examination of this meeting. The young man was ripped apart and she had to administer ten stitches to close his bleeding taint. "You are going to have to be very careful with this stitches and make sure you keep clean to avoid infection." She removed her gloves. "You may dress in the new clothes provided." She left the battered man in peace. She wanted to comfort him but knew after her examination, she would never be allowed in.

Toby finished redressing and stood at the window once again. He didn't have to wait long for Officer Bellick and Dr. Tancredi to return. "Mr. Locke, would you like to tell us what happened?" Sara cautiously inquired. Toby turned around slowly, the swelling in his lip had reduced a lot since Bellick last saw him.

"Nothing happened Doc." Toby sounded like a robot to himself. He could not tell the woman what happened, especially with Bellick standing right there. He doubted if he could even utter the words if he tried. She looked so disappointed in him.

"Was it your cellmate that did this to you?" She pressed. Toby couldn't look at her, he just shook his head.

"May I leave now, Dr. Tancredi?" He nearly pleaded. If she kept digging at him, he was going to break down. He couldn't break down, not now, not here. She nodded sadly, allowing Bellick to grip the young man's arm and tow him away.

"Good fish." Bellick whispered to him as they left. On the their way out the door, Michael Scofield was being led in by another guard. He gave Toby a knowing and apologetic look. Somehow it didn't feel demeaning when Scofield gave him that look. Maybe it was because it easily could have been Michael in his place that day. Toby almost wished it had been, but he couldn't bring himself to wish that on anyone.


	10. Chapter 10

AN: Eva, T-Bag is a character I just love to hate :) and I would love to keep posting this rapidly but soon you, the readers, will be as far along as I am lol. I got stuck on some writer's block for a bit and am slowly working past it. But I will try to post as often as possible :) Enjoy this new chapter.

Toby had spent most of the morning in the infirmary, so he missed breakfast. Much to his surprise his stomach growled for the 'food'. Bellick sent him out into the yard where everyone else was currently. Toby wasn't met with fanfare exactly, but everyone seemed to watch him out of the corner of their eyes. He tried his best to walk without a limp, but it proved difficult. And even if he could pretend he wasn't ashamed, his bruised face and his screams the previous night told everything.

Toby made his way to the chess boards where he sat down with Charles. They didn't speak for a long time. There was really nothing to say, plus Toby could use the distraction. They played nearly an entire game when someone cleared their throat behind Toby. Westmoreland looked up at the person and then back to Toby. His eyes apologized as he stood up and walked away. Toby didn't feel angry at him for leaving. Charles had to protect himself too.

"You seem to have gotten yourself lost on your way to the bleachers, boy." A hand pressed onto his shoulders. Toby took in a breathe, knots forming in his stomach again and slowly rose from his seat. Turning to face T-Bag again was harder than Toby could imagine. "You won't be doing that again, now will you, Sunny."

Toby's face lost all color as T-Bag produced the picture of his daughter that had been left in the pants from last night. "Please, give me that back. T-Bag, please." Desperation shook his voice. His hand raised to take the photo back but T-Bag pulled it away.

"Now, now, Sunny. You're gonna have to earn it back." He smiled. "I see you were keeping her to yourself. Such a beautiful young woman she is."

"She is a child, you sick fuck!" Toby nearly shouted, his hands balled into fists by his sides. T-Bag's smiled slipped a little, but he only responded with a tsk-tsk before shoving the image in his back pocket.

"That is no way to get what you want, Sunny." His voice was sickening sweet as he pulled his pocket out for Toby to take. "Let's head back over to the family, eh." It was not a question. Toby fought with himself but finally ended up taking ahold of the wretched cloth. He felt such shame as they walked across the yard. Well, Toby sulked and T-Bag was nearly skipping with glee.

Toby was forced to follow T-Bag everywhere he went including showers, where T-Bag insisted they share one nozzle. Beings Toby was so sore, Bagwell took his time soaping up the boy and made Toby do the same to him. It was degrading and deranged, but T-Bag took joy from watching Toby's cheeks flare red as he was forced to touch Bagwell's cock. He supposed he might as well get used to it, beings he doubted that rape would be a one time deal.

It wasn't until dinner when Toby was finally allowed to be alone. He didn't know where Bagwell had run off to, but Toby was glad he wasn't behind him in line anymore. He did see that the Purity was keeping watch over him in T-Bag's absence, but they didn't touch him. He was nearly done having food plopped on his tray when a commotion occurred near the beginning of the line. CO's barged into a side room and seconds later exited with two Italians in cuffs and one T-Bag on a stretcher. He would have smiled had he not been so confused.

Then he noticed Abruzzi and Michael talking in line. Michael sent a glance in Toby's direction, but that was all. Tobias finished gathering his food and headed to his lonely table only to grabbed and ushered to the Aryan's instead. He didn't look up and he didn't speak. He just ate as quickly as he could while the rest of the group chattered on, angry about what happened to their leader but knowing they couldn't do a damn thing to Abruzzi.

Toby was drug outside as he was not allowed to be alone with Bagwell in the infirmary. Someone might try to step in and take their bitch with him gone for a while. The next day they were less strict, they let Toby play chess with Charles and walk about basically alone, though they kept him close and forced him to still eat at their table. During T time Toby slipped up to the second tier, Michael Scofield was sitting in the walkway, leaning against the rails.

"Hi...I'm Tobias Locke." Toby turned to mimic Michael's stance. "Did you have anything to do with what happened to T-Bag?"

Michael smirked. "That was Abruzzi's way of telling me that he and I are cool. T-Bag was after me, though not as bad as you..." His smiled faded and he finally looked at Toby, whose eyes were still black and his cut lip just starting to heal. Toby nodded. It was no secret, what happened.

"Do you think if I talked to Abruzzi, would he help me out too?" Toby hoped with all his heart. He was willing to owe the mob to get away from that man. Michael stared for a second before shaking his head slightly. They both looked forward again. "It's fine, I get it."

"I have information Abruzzi wants so he is willing to negociate with me..." Michael ran a hand along his scalp. "Do you have anything you can offer him?" Toby wracked his brain but he didn't know anything about crime activity out nor inside these walls. His first dabble in crime was what landed him here.

With a sigh he grumbled, "No..." With that he pushed away from the railing and walked back down, stopping in to see Westmoreland. He almost laughed when he found him again reading Huckleberry Finn.

"Don't you get tired of that story?" he chortled.

Charles smiled up at him. "Never. I've read it so much I could recite the entire book by heart, but somehow it always lifts my spirits to read it again." Toby lowered himself to the floor of the cell, his stitches pulled slightly causing him to flinch.

"I am going to need to find myself a book like that ." He laughed despite the pain.

T-Bag's cell wasn't so bad when the guy wasn't there. Even the purity wasn't so bad. All they did was make racist/sexist jokes and keep everyone away from Toby. Toby almost felt untouchable these days, but he knew it wouldn't be long before The Bagman returned from the infirmary. He dreaded that day, but that wasn't today and that was all he cared about.

He spent yard time and tier time with Charles. He ate all alone at his table when the Aryans allowed him to. When he was locked up in his cell, he sketched on a pad of paper he got from the commissary. Turns out, he wasn't half bad as an artist. He was drawing one of his daughter holding her favorite teddy bear. The poor thing was practically a rag last he saw it. Anna had been dragging that thing around since her third birthday. It was all he could afford to give her. Toby could still remember how she squealed when she opened the paper bag he'd tucked the animal into. You would have thought he had bought a tv or a big girl bed the way she was overjoyed by the plushy toy.

Toby was so proud of himself for that piece of joy he had brought into her life. Anna had named that bear and he became her best friend. Even when she started school. She would place Jerry in the bottom of her backpack to accompany her and her classmates on their walk back home. There was a group of them that lived in the same apartment building, so Toby felt safe allowing her to walk home with them while he was at work. He missed out on so much because of his dead end jobs. She locked the doors behind her, made her own pb and j, did all her homework. Some evenings when Toby had to work late, he would come home to her little tooth brush on the counter and her snuggled up with Jerry in her bed.

She was more adult at age eight than any child Toby knew. He would kiss her on her cheek before turning out the lights. Sometimes she would wake up and tell him about her day, but most of the time she just smiled in her sleep. It was like she inherently knew he was there. She had had to grow up way too fast and late at night he mourned her childhood. She never even knew that she missed it.

Toby broke away from his thoughts, setting the drawing beside him on his bunk. With a sigh he jumped down and headed to the front of his cell for count. He didn't have to wait for the correctional officers to call it out anymore. He knew when it was time. Being on the main floor, it didn't take long for him to be checked off. He was about to return to his sketch when Bellick shouted out about a runner and the alarms went off. Toby mashed himself against the bars trying to see who was going to get their freedom.

Unfortunately he couldn't quite see, but the excitement of it all was intoxicating. Toilet paper streamers floated down from the upper levels and the cons roared. Everyone was rooting for the escapee. The excitement didn't last long though, as Michael Scofield was led back into the cell block. Word was that he was working late in the warden's office on something. The guy was a college boy, so it made sense that the warden would have him working up there. All in all, Toby was still bummed that no one actually did get out of here.


	11. Chapter 11

It had been getting so hot outside that Toby was taking the only comfort he could in the air conditioning of the prison, that is until it broke that morning. The sun baked him outside and the sweltering heat in the stuffy building was ruining him. He had been soaking his face in the sink in the corner of his cell when over the loudspeaker he heard the only thing that chilled him to his core. "Theodore Bagwell for reentry to gen. pop. from infirmary."

Toby couldn't move. He heard the greetings and congratulations for his return being thrown about just outside the cell. He dipped his face back into the water he had filled the sink with, hoping to drown himself before T-Bag stepped into the cell. He was not that fortunate. "Mm, Sunny. You know just how to make a man feel welcome." T-Bag admired Toby's ass as he bent over the sink. Toby straightened but continued to stare straight ahead. Turning to face the monster was the hardest thing he had ever done.

All he could do was gulp down the fear lodged in his throat. "Back so soon, T-Bag?" He released a timid breathy laugh, running his hand roughly through his hair.

"Not soon enough, Sunny." the older man voiced in a throaty, lascivious manner. T-Bag strode forward, backing Toby into the now empty sink. "I was thinking a lot about you while I was away." He placed his hands on the mirror behind Toby, effectively caging him in, and took a deep breath into the boy's neck.

"I'm afraid that's not going to happen, Theodore..."

"Do you really want to tell me no again, boy." The older man pressed his body against Toby's, who merely trembled and looked away.

"N-no, what I mean to say is that, well, um, I still have the stitches..." Toby whimpered. Out of the corner of his eye, T-Bag leered, trailing one hand down Toby's side and back between his legs. The boy sucked in a scared breath that sent a surge straight to T-Bag's groin.

"There are other ways for you to satisfy me, Sunny. Don't you worry none." With that, T-Bag patted Toby's cheek and left the cell. Toby crumpled to the floor once he was alone. Dragging shaky breaths he tried to calm himself. After a few moments, he stood up to lean against his bed and rolled his head back onto the mattress.

Whatever business T-Bag had out there, it didn't keep him away long enough. Within the hour, he returned to their cell. Toby was back in his sketchbook, this time working on one of a very angry looking Bellick. That is until T-Bag snatched the pad away from him.

"Well, well, good with your hands, Sunny?" T-Bag looked up at Toby through his lashes. "Draw me in here?" He began flipping through the pages.

"No, now could I please have it back." Toby thrust his hand in the space between them. T-Bag glanced up again, then tossed the pad on the table near the sink. He grasped hold of Toby's wrist and pulled him from the bunk. The young man nearly crashed to the floor, but caught himself just in time.

"Why don't you let down that sheet, boy?" He pushed the boy towards the front of the cell.

"How can you even consider...that...in this heat?" Toby stuttered, facing the cell bars.

"How can I think of anything else with a boy like you sharing my cell..." The rapist was much closer than Toby anticipated. He swallowed hard and turned around, staring face to face with Bagwell. "Let down the sheet, Sunny." Fearing another beating Toby, reached above his head and pulled the tape off the blanket. It fell into place too quickly for Toby's liking. Blocked from view of the CO's, he felt as though the walls were closing in on him. "On your knees."

Toby started to protest but eventually just allowed himself to be pushed down by T-bag. He fell to his knees gracefully. T-Bag lifted his head, forcing the boy to look into his eyes as his thumb traced his lips. Suddenly the man's grip tightened and Toby knew fresh bruises would be found there the next day.

"You ever suck dick before, Sunny?"

"No," Toby whispered beginning to feel truly terrified.

"If you do as I say this time, it won't be too difficult to get the hang of." T-Bag released his erection from his pants' strangle hold on it. Toby looked away from the repulsing member bobbing in his face. "Look at me, boy, and open your fucking mouth."

"Please don't make me do this lights are all on...!" He pleaded with his captor. T-Bag only tightened his jaw and smacked Toby across the face.

"Keep talkin' Bitch." Toby grunted from the pain and squeezed his eyes shut. He hissed a few breaths before T-Bag turned his face to look up at him. "Mouth open or I will break your jaw." He watched in amusement as the boy's mouth slowly dropped open. His perfect mouth inched closer to T-Bag's aching prick. He watched in avid fascination as the smaller man timidly stuck his tongue out and licked the mushroom head of T-Bag's engorged shaft.

Toby had to concentrate his hardest to keep the revulsion he was feeling from coming up his throat. He just had to get through this, live through prison, and he would get to go back to his little girl. "Mmm, that's the way Sunny." T-Bag's hands wound themselves into Toby's hair. He gripped the boy's hair in large fistfuls, forcing Toby's head down on his dick.

The invasive member slammed into Toby's throat. He gagged and pushed against Bagwell's thighs. "I can't breathe!" Tobias wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, desperately trying to find a way to avoid putting that thing back in his mouth. T-Bag didn't share his sentiments. He pulled the squirming boy by his hair to the wall, shoving his head against the stone. When Toby gasped T-Bag returned his leaking cock to the boy's mouth. He thrust in, pushing himself down the boy's throat. Toby gagged but couldn't move, there was no room to move away.

He screwed his eyes shut, fighting to breathe passed the dick in his throat. "Oh, Sunny, you take dick like a pro." He began to thrust faster, harder. He was pummeling the boy's face, as his hands in Toby's hair forced the kid's face into him as well. Toby felt tears slide down his cheeks as T-Bag buried the boy's head in his crotch. He held Toby there as he shot seed into the younger man's mouth.

Toby tried to swallow it all as it was coming, but there was too much. It dribbled out of his lips as T-Bag pulled slowly from his aching maw. He patted Toby's cheek and slid his fingers through the escaping splooge. "You sure you've never done that before, boy?" T-bag licked his cooling spunk from his fingertips. Toby could still smell Theodore's pubic musk even though the revolting thing was again safely tucked away.

T-Bag lounged back in his bunk thoroughly satisfied for now. He watched the boy come to grips with what had just happened, his lips trembled as though he might break down. The emotional avalanche was barred mere moments away from total annihilation. Composed, Toby got to his feet, trudging back over to the sink where he washed his mouth out repeatedly but he doubted he would ever be rid of that bitter taste. How could that sorry excuse of a man stomach to taste it himself? Toby thought angrily. Why would anyone taste their own sauce? It was sick.


	12. Chapter 12

"Come here and cup your hands, Sunny." The rapist ordered from his bed. Curiosity more than obedience pushed Toby to do as he was told. There was no way Bagwell would be ready to torture Toby some more. Not that soon. Toby stood in front of the bunks but kept out of reach, fearing Theodore meant to cause more pain. He formed a bowl with his hands, reluctant to put them within reach still. "Get over here, Boy, I am not going to hurt ya. Jeez, you'd think I was a leper."

Shuffling into the dangerzone, Toby stared at T-Bag's hands. He didn't want to let them out of his sight for a second. To his surprise the older man pulled out a bag of walnuts and dumped them in Toby's palms. He then laid back, eating each nut one by one. Toby was flabbergasted. He had gone from plaything to food bowl in minutes.

The heat was beginning to get to him. Sweat dripped into his eyes and he wiped it away with his sleeve. He had been standing there for probably a good hour, while T-Bag covered his eyes and forehead with a cool wet washcloth.

Toby sighed. "Man, it's hot in here." He wiped at his face again on his shoulder.

""Did I say you could talk Sunny? You'll know when I want you to open your mouth again." T-Bag barely lifted the cloth from his face. He took another nut from Toby's hands; popping it in his mouth.

-

"Locke, infirmary." An officer stood in the doorway of the cell. Toby turned and dropped the nuts onto the table. He dusted his hands off on his pants before facing the guard again. With a short nod, they left. Toby almost wanted to smile, finally getting away from Bagwell. Even if it was only for a half an hour or so.

"You alright, Locke?" Toby gave the man a sideways glance. No CO spoke like this to inmates. He had to be a rookie. "I mean, being in with Bagwell and all?"

"Yeah, Boss, I'm fine." Toby lied. Fine. It sounded like a cuss word to his mind and tasted on his tongue like the spunk he'd been forced to swallow. Toby was far from fine. He was led into the examination room, the same one he had been in after he was raped. Again he stood at the window, but the sun was torturing him rather than relaxing this time.

Toby rolled his shoulders back, trying to stand taller. Maybe if he had been big like Scofield he could have bested T-Bag that night. Maybe he wouldn't be a bitch, a punk, a whore. Toby spun to face the doctor as she opened the door. "Good afternoon, Doctor Tancredi." His voice sounded far away, like it wasn't him at all.

"Nice to see you, Mr. Locke." She responded. Her words kind but rehearsed. He didn't mind. The rookie CO closed the glass paned door behind her as he waited on the other side. "Today, we remove the stitches. I am going to need you to undress and put this gown." She placed it on the examination table.

It was much easier for Toby to accept her presence now than it had been before. He knew he would most likely be seeing her often for the beatings T-Bag liked to give. He gently touched the fresh bruises upon his face. Toby redressed quickly, wanting to get this over with. The stitches were becoming more of a nuisance than help; though Toby feared when Bagwell found out they were gone. Dr. Tancredi was obliged to work quickly, as she needed to get down to sickbay where there were many inmates suffering of heat related illnesses.

It wasn't long before Toby was redressed and cuffed for the walk back to A block. On the way, Bob the Rookie picked up the one and only Lincoln Burrows, The Sink as he is referred to by other inmates. He had shot and killed the Vice President's brother some time back and was waiting on death row now. He still pleads his innocence. Toby had also heard that he and Scofield were brothers, though they didn't look much alike. They both had hard eyes and short hair, both towered over Toby. Who didn't?

The CO's walkie crackled, "A block has been compromised. All doors to B block have been shut down."

"A block?! That's where Michael's at." Burrows questioned the rookie. He pleaded to know what was going on. Bob brushed him off with a sorry, which was also weird for a correctional officer to say to an inmate. Lincoln warned him against doing so again.

"Hey, Boss, where are you going to take me if A Block is locked down?" Toby changed the subject. He didn't get his answer. Immediately following the question, sounds of shouting and feet pounding the linoleum ricocheted down the hall. Suddenly, a group of angry rioters led by none other than fucking T-Bag rounded the corner.

"I'll be damned, a rookie CO and it ain't even Christmas." The southerner taunted.

"Get out of here, T-Bag." Linc the sink threatened while taking Bob's keys and uncuffing himself. He handed the keys to Toby, turning to face the group.

"Oh I see, you found him first. Finders, keepers. I respect that, I do, but I think we can work something out." T-Bag gestured with a metal pipe in his hand. His crew stepped in closer behind him. Toby rushed to remove the metal bands, tossing them on the floor.

"What do ya got?" Sink responded, sounding almost bored. Toby shifted, watching the looks passed between Linc and Bagwell. He feared for the rookie. He knew what T-Bag was like and he couldn't believe Lincoln was considering throwing the guy to these wolves.

"Well, though it pains me, I could loan my boy here to service you." Lincoln shook his head, bewildered by the way T-Bag assumed he would take advantage of Toby. "Maybe I could get you some demerol, some X. Make your last few weeks real good, now. Make you forget all about that big bad chair." The pedophile continued.

"No deal." Sink snorted.

"You got to learn the art of negotiating." T-Bag started to get angry. "Lesson one: bargaining position." Inmates crashed against the doors behind Toby, trying to get through. Toby backed away from them, but stopped when he saw how close it had put him to the other group. "Yours just changed, Sink." T-Bag pointed the pipe at Lincoln.

"Take the pig!" An aryan in the back shouted. The group surged forward, but T-Bag pushed them back. Bob tried to run through them. Toby grabbed his shirt.

"What do you think you are doing, boss?" Toby cried over the noise. The badge would never make it through that crowd.

"I got get the hell out of here!" The pig panicked.

"How far do you really think you'd get?" Toby pushed him back behind Lincoln.

"Chill, Sink, no blood needs to spill." T-Bag stepped forward, finally calming his group a little.

"Walk away..." Burrows let the threat hang in the air.

"We both know that ain't gonna happen." T-Bag shook his head like an animal, his eyes locked on prey. Those cold beads darted from Bob to Toby for a few seconds before returning to Lincoln. Linc gripped the cuffs like knuckle dusters. "You ever watch those safari shows, where a bunch of cheetahs just jump all up on an antelope. Guess which one you are?"

The flood gates opened, Toby attacked the nearest guy. Mainly it was them versus Linc, but Toby had to help. He knew they didn't consider him a threat, that was probably the only reason he could take some of them out. After he had knocked two guys out of sorts, and Lincoln had taken down more than a few. They were overtaken. Toby and the CO were pinned against the fences being beaten, while Lincoln was still fighting against the on coming Purity. T-Bag bashed the metal pipe into the back of Linc's head and the man fell to the floor. Blood oozed from his skull, but he was completely out.

"Tough little gorilla, ain't he." T-Bag muttered, out of breath. He then turned his attention to the two still receiving punches. "Sunny, where did you learn to fight like that? Hmm? That sure didn't come up in our cell." The man slithered up, almost pressing up to Toby. The younger man attempted to push himself away from Bagwell, but was stopped by the man punching him in the chest, back against the metal. "Maybe you wanted it, then. Mm." T-Bag licked his lips. Toby shuddered and looked away, coughing a few times. T-Bag chuckled and patted his face. Then Toby and the CO were dragged along behind the group as they made their way back to A Block.


	13. Chapter 13

"Gentlemen! Oh, Gentlemen!" T-Bag called the attention of the rioters of gen. pop. He held up the beaten rookie, like a prize kill. "I assure you, once Bob and I are done getting acquainted...everyone else will get their turn." He turned to drag the poor man into a cell on the second tier. "We are gonna have ourselves a little fun. Now, don't worry. I don't got the blicky, my pipes are clean." T-Bag assured his soon to be victim.

The CO broke away from T-Bag's grasp, stumbling as fast as he could down the row. He was badly beaten and couldn't keep up the hurried pace, T-Bag caught up to him easily. Toby pulled out of the grip an aryan had on him and rushed up the other stairs to the tier. He ran towards the two, just as T-Bag climbed onto the fleeing man and peppered him with punches. Toby hurled himself at the convict. He managed enough force to knock him off of Bob.

Toby didn't know what he was thinking, but Bob had been nice to him. He wasn't like the other CO's that turned a blind eye to the shit he was going through. The rookie was a good guy, he shouldn't have to go through what Toby did. The young man didn't know what to do once he had T-Bag on the floor. He didn't feel powerful in this position. He felt even more scared, for once Bagwell saw what had happened, his eyes narrowed and hate filled every molecule of his body.

How dare his punk get in the way! Toby knew that he would be in for a royal beating. Hell, he might even die for this. T-Bag grabbed Toby's shirt, dragging the boy's face down to his own. "You have no idea how big of a mistake you just made, boy." The man growled, spittle flying. T-Bag rolled the two of them over, maneuvering the struggling smaller man with practiced ease. Still holding onto wads of t-shirt, he drug Toby along. Toby tried to get to his feet and break away from T-Bag's hold, but he kept tripping as he was propelled back towards the broken CO.

Bagwell, threw the rookie into a cell and Toby in after him. The CO landed in the middle of floor. Toby tripped over him, reaching out for anything to keep him from face planting. The young man landed on the sink, pulling it way too easily from the wall. He crashed to the floor and the metal unit landed on top of him. All present stared at the hole hidden behind the detached shitter.

"They're breaking out..." T-Bag whispered. "They're breaking..!" His shout was cut off by the hand of Abruzzi clamping over it.

"Shhh..." The big italian whispered an inch away from the rapist's face. Toby turned his head as noise filtered through the hole. Suddenly Michael Scofield climbed from it, followed by his cellmate, Fernando Sucre. "Yeah, we have a problem." Abruzzi shifted in the doorway of the cell.

"Yeah, that's right. Yeah, Bob here has seen the hole. He has to go away." T-Bag licked his lips. Michael looked from Toby to Bob and placed his head against the wall. He sighed in frustration.

Finally, he turned around, "No one's going anywhere."

"He has seen the hole, Pretty. And so has my boy, but I can handle him." T-Bag winked at Toby and took a step towards Michael.

"So, have you." Abruzzi pushed himself away from the open cell door. Fernando turned to Michael, saying something or another about a lockdown idea. 'This lockdown was all Michael's fault?' Toby couldn't believe it.

"We gotta kill 'im." T-Bag suggested. Michael was not having that. He was no murderer.

"The cops are right outside and they will stay outside as long as they know we are keeping him alive." Michael glanced down at the pitiful looking man. Blood smeared on his face, some still flowing from his broken nose.

"But he is a guard, Scofield. He's gonna squeal." T-Bag was bewildered.

"What the hell does this have to do with you anyway." Abruzzi stepped to T-Bag's face. "This is not any of your concern." T-Bag scoffed and turned again towards Michael.

"See, Bob here knows about our secret. He knows about OUR escape." He smiled at Abruzzi. "So, it's all of our concern, now isn't it?" T-Bag was shoved out of the cell and against the railing. Toby couldn't catch what was said, but knew it was those escaping versus T-Bag. Toby wouldn't want the guy to be let out in the real world either. The shell shock wore away and Toby finally crawled out from underneath the toilet. He put it back against the wall and stood in the corner, watching it all go down.

Michael left the cell and headed down to the main floor. Shortly after he returned heading back into the wall. He sent Fernando in as well, to work on some wall while Scofield went to sick bay. Toby's head spun and he wasn't sure if it was from the beating or the situation. "No one touches the CO. No one." Michael stated, looking directly at T-Bag before going through the hole.

"You gonna clue me in, Paison." T-Bag returned to the cell prodding the mob boss. Toby didn't see this day getting any better for him, and hoped it couldn't get worse.


	14. Chapter 14

Toby helped move the rookie onto the bottom bunk. He was heavy but Toby managed. Bob thanked Toby quietly and the younger man nodded, afraid to speak with T-Bag breathing down both their necks. Toby sat down on the bed next to the guy, hoping maybe if he was here, T-Bag would hurt him rather than Bob. He couldn't tell you why he felt the need to protect the guy, but he couldn't stomach allowing T-Bag to hurt him.

After a few minutes of silence, T-Bag reached across the cell from position against the wall and ripped the CO's boots off. He pulled the shoe laces out and stuffed them in his pockets, returning to take the man's belt. Toby sat up straight, stretching his arm out. He blocked T-Bag from touching Bob. The rapist chuckled, "Looks like the pig got himself a protector." He turned to face Toby directly. "Move your hand Boy, or I will maim you."

Toby glared at the older man and did not budge. "You aren't going to hurt him T-Bag."

"Trying to tell me what to do again. You sure are stupid, Sunny." He backhanded Toby. "If you are so keen on me not touching your CO, then you can take off his belt for me." T-Bag grabbed the boy by the back of the neck. He enjoyed seeing the younger man's slender fingers shake slightly as they fumbled with the pigs pants. Arousal stirred in T-Bag, the belt now in hand. He released Toby and sat back against the wall.

"You're not going to use that." Sucre said over his shoulder, preparing to head into the wall himself.

"You makin' up the rules now, Ese." T-Bag retorted, still messing with his newly acquired items.

"It's my house. You got a problem?" The hispanic man tossed back.

"Yeah, I got a problem. We all do." Bagwell sent a glare Bob's way.

"No problem..." The CO muttered. "I swear to God, I'm not going to say anything. I didn't SEE anything." He tried to convince the cons he didn't need to be killed.

"That's right, Badge. You didn't see nothing." Fernando leaned into the hole.

"Wait, don't leave." Bob shivered with worry of being practically alone with T-Bag. He knew that Toby would do what he could but doubted it would be enough. Fernando eyed the southerner for a second, but he had to go.

"Sorry. I'll be back."

"Don't worry, CO. Alright. I'm not gonna hurt nobody. I'm part of the team now." T-Bag reassured, while holding up a sheet to cover Sucre and the hole. "Sunny, get off your ass and move that back over." He gestured at the toilet.

Toby pulled himself laboredly off the bunk as his stiff, tired muscles complained and bent to bring the toilet back to its normal position. T-Bag leered at his boy, "That's the way. Mm, mmm, mm." He pawed his fingers at his lower lip, letting go of the sheet once more. Toby settled back on the bunk, twiddling his fingers.

T-Bag stood up to tie the CO's hands with the shoe laces around the bedpost. He  
couldn't help but be amused at how Toby sat up straight when he neared the pig. When he had finished securing the badge, he took the time to steal the man's wallet. Bagwell flipped through its contents once he was nestled back into his spot.

"Tyler Robert Hudson. That is fancy, CO. Oh and look at that address:144 Oak Park...what's this?" He glanced up at the distraught man.

"Terrace." The captive sneered.

"Terrace...how do you swing that? Sounds like you are about something, livin on a ...terrace." He whispered the last word. "I can't wait to kick it on a terrace. What..ohhh oh, this here must be your daughter." He held up a photo of a beautiful young girl in a red gown. "Prom?"

"Put it back." Bob demanded. T-Bag smiled at his reaction. He loved messing with father's and he had two in his company right now. Sucking his lower lip into his mouth, T-Bag leaned forward.

"You know what they say about a prom dress...don'cha?" he put the top edge of the picture in his mouth. "She didn't come home that night, did she? No she wore that ALL night long. The next morning she had to throw that dress away in the trash can behind the motel so her Momma didn't see the..."

"Shut the fuck up, T-Bag!" Toby snarled. His fists were clenched against his thighs, trying his hardest not to attack the bastard.

"Oh, my dear Sunny, I almost forgot about your little girl." T-Bag smiled sickeningly sweet. "She isn't quite old enough for this conversation, but your Daddy instincts just kick right in don't they." He laughed, leaning back against the wall again. He reached into his pocket and produced the little girl. It drove Toby mad that the sick fuck had his daughter on him all the time. T-Bag chuckled, "I'm starting a right..collection, ain't I?" He admired the two photos side by side.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey. What the hell are you doing?" Abruzzi appeared in the doorway seemingly from nowhere.

"I'm just kicking it with Deputy Dog, you know, talking women." He gave a sly smirk to the two on the bunk as the pictures disappeared into his trousers.

"I'll be very clear here, because you and I face an evolutionary gap. You aren't going to hurt this man. We are locked into this..thing, now. Understand?" Abruzzi spat the words into the pedophile's face. "And he's all the leverage you have, hillbilly." T-Bag just stood there and took the verbal abuse. Toby was astonished by Bagwell's composure, though it wasn't like he could do anything to Abruzzi. The man practically ran this place as much as the guards themselves.

"Thank you." The pitiful guard uttered.

"You're welcome." Abruzzi responded like an afterthought. "Now, do we have an understanding?" T-Bag paced a few laps before responding.

"I'm on your side now. You understand me? I'm just goin' with the flow." He turned to leave the cell. "You let me know when your done with the, uh, leverage. Come on, Sunny, let's go." T-Bag pulled his pocket out. They didn't go far, just to the top of the staircase. Toby stared with hatred at the fabric in his hand. Bagwell didn't pay him any mind for he was keeping an eye on the cell, waiting to go back inside.


	15. Chapter 15

It didn't take long for Abruzzi to disappear through the hole. After he was gone, T-Bag and Toby returned, not for lack of Toby trying to persuade Bagwell to leave it alone. Theodore was not in the mood to deal with Toby's shit. With a few swift strikes to the face and Toby was quietly holding the pocket like a good bitch should. T-Bag forced the boy onto the floor right beside where he stood peering into the mirror.

"I had such bad skin at your daughter's age. Yacne, they called me." He pulled the photo out, his thumb tracing her form. "She looks like all them girls that made fun of me." T-Bag chuckled in a way that said he found no humor in the subject. Then, he moved in, inches away from Bob's terrified face. "After I kill you, I'm crawl out that hole and call me up a limousine. Then me and your baby, we're going to the prom..." The rapist bobbed his head in mock thrusts.

T-Bag turned and smiled at Toby. He winked and sat back putting his hand on the inside of Toby's thigh. "When we get out of here Sunny, I think you and I should go road trippin'. I got places to go and could use the company." He squeezed Toby lightly and rubbed hand up and down the boy's leg a few times. Suddenly, Michael's rhino of a brother stormed into the cell shouting his name. T-Bag jumped to his feet nearly tripping over Toby.

"You son of a bitch." Lincoln growled, grabbing T-Bag by the throat and pressing him against the back wall still clutching the open cuff in his fist.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. I didn't touch him! I didn't touch him" T-Bag threw his hands up to protect himself. "Things have changed since we last met. Okay?" The toilet shifted out of the way as Sucre and Abruzzi stepped through. "Relax partner, I am in on it now. I know all about it. So does the CO."

Lincoln changed victims, snatching up Sucre and pulling him out of the cell to the railing. A warning sounded over the speakers, whoever was called in to shut down the riot was waiting just outside, preparing to charge in and they were advising all inmates to return to their cells or suffer the consequences. With loud buzzers, they burst in. Michael returned to the cell through the doorway with his brother in tow.

"Alright, let's get everyone out of here. Especially him." Michael looked to Bob.

"Don't worry about it. I will take care of him myself." T-Bag stood in front of the bunks, eyeing the scared man.

"You're not going to kill him." Michael turned away from the hole.

"I'm never coming back here." Bob tried to justify his survival.

"It's over! We don't need him no more!"

"You're not going to kill him!"

"Are you so stupid, you're goin'na let him walk out that front door..." T-Bag pushed Michael against the wall. Lincoln grabbed Bagwell's shoulder spinning him away from his brother. "After all he's seen?!" T-Bag continued. Lincoln pulled the man off of the bed and led him out of the cell. Abruzzi threatened him, holding the man's license which had his address on it. If the group had any problems, he would send people after Bob and his family.

T-Bag forced Toby to his feet, still angry about letting the CO go. "Get out!" Michael shouted. As T-Bag exited the cell, Abruzzi shoved him and Toby in the opposite direction as Bob.

"Just forget about it." He pushed T-Bag again, before heading to his own cell in the mess of inmates running all over the place. Bagwell pulled he and Toby into an empty cell and pressed his finger to Toby's questioning lips. After he saw Abruzzi fly past the cell door, he slid into the flow going the other way. Toby ran after him, trying to reach him before he got to the guard.

Convicts bumped into Toby. They shoved him, tripped him. Without Bagwell around, he was still the pretty boy they hated. Because of them, Toby arrived at T-Bag's side as Bob's body fell over the railing. "You bastard..." Toby couldn't muster anger, all he could see is that man's daughter. Another family waiting for a man who wouldn't come home. He saw the man he had killed. He saw his own daughter.

T-Bag shook Toby from his thoughts, dragging him back the way they had come. As they passed Scofield, T-Bag leaned in towards him whispering, "One for the team..." Canisters of tear gas and mask covered officers filled the main floor. Toby and Bagwell arrived in their cell just shy of the doors slamming shut. Adrenaline and regret pumped through Toby's system as he watched them cart away Bob's mangled body. Across the way, Toby saw Westmoreland and he knew by the look on his face, that Charles had seen was happened to poor Bob. Toby wasn't alone in his sadness.


	16. Chapter 16

**AN: Thank you sooooo much, to every one who has read my story. To those who have taken the time to comment, I love you in a completely inappropriate way ;D**

**AN: I realized that I have neglected my duty of disclosing that I, in fact, do not own any part of Prison Break. I own Tobias Locke and that is all. Poor, poor Toby. Yep :) Enjoy the chapter now.**

The guards were on a rampage. They were tossing every cell, looking for the killer of their good friend Bob. They knew that one of the scum in here had the photo of his daughter and they were going to find him. Toby watched from his bunk, Bagwell was getting nervous. Every cell tossed narrowed the search for him. He played with the photo in his pocket, trying to find a way to get out of this mess.

Eventually, it was yard time and Toby reluctantly held onto T-Bag's pocket. He hated being led around the place like a damn lap dog, but he had learned the price of being disobedient. Toby preferred T-Bag's gentle, happy fuckings over his angry, brutal ones. Dr. Tancredi and Toby had seen too much of each other by Toby's count.

None of the potential escapees wanted Bagwell going with them,and Toby was shunned as well because he was always in tow of the pedophile. In the yard, the two walked up on a conversation that went silent. "New York, California, St. Louis...what are we talking about?" Bagwell asked, knowing they were codenames to something in this escape plan.

"Baseball, actually." Michael covered from the middle of the pack sitting on the benches.

"Now, that's something I know quite a lot about." T-Bag smacked Toby's hand from his pocket and put his leg up on the closest bench.

"Too bad, conversation's over." Abruzzi stood up and the other's followed suit.

"Aw, now don't play me like that. I know ya'll think I'm going to get popped for killing Bob. Might even take a walk yourself and make sure I do, but if I go down for the CO, I might just go take a walk of my own. Tell 'em all about that little hole you got behind your toilet..." He pulled his pocket out again, waiting for Toby to take hold of it. "So, you see, if I ain't through that hole...no one is."

The group walked away, pretending they didn't hear a word of what was said. Toby turned to T-Bag trying to keep his voice aloof. "Thanks for mentioning me. I don't want to be stuck in here any more than you do." T-Bag chuckled and messed up Toby's hair in an endearing way.

"Course you are coming, Boy. How could I leave tail like you behind to be used by others? You know how I feel 'bout sharing my toys." They followed the rest of the inmates inside. The cellblock still smelled of slightly like the tear gas, but it was fading. Toby felt sick every time it hit him. The riot and the rape that followed it were all that came to mind. T-Bag had had his fun reminding Toby where his place was after his insolence that day.

Bagwell strode the two up to Michael and Abruzzi conversing on the second tier rails. Again their conversation died when they saw T-Bag swagger up the stairs. "Been doin' a little thinking, Sunny and I are gonna need PI cards...that's where this whole thing is going down, is it not?"

"They're on their way." Abruzzi snorted. Obviously lying.

"You're slow walking me, but I am going with you in this endeavour. Or, I got a nice singing voice otherwise." T-Bag stepped around Michael and Abruzzi a little too closely, forcing Toby to brush against them on his way by. Toby hoped they didn't take it personally. T-Bag planted him in their cell, as the older man needed to run an errand. From the doorway, Toby's eyes followed Bagwell to the cell of his right hand man in the Alliance.

Trokey was in on drug charges, he ran a good portion of the trafficking in Fox River. All that didn't go through Abruzzi, went through Trokey and the Alliance. He was the only man in here that T-Bag seemed to trust, but whatever it was he wanted from the guy, he did not receive it. Bagwell's face was utter stone as he left Trokey's cell. He looked like he could kill the next person that spoke to him.

Toby spun around and jumped up into his bunk, trying his best to stay out of T-Bag's way. Of course that was impossible. Staying out of T-Bag's way was like trying to outrun a tornado on foot. It didn't happen. As soon as he returned to the cell he ordered Toby from his blanket fortress. After an internal debate, Toby crawled down to face the man.

"I am in quite a bind. As you can see." T-Bag gestured behind himself, to the guards nearing ever closer. "Now, being under my protection elicits certain favors, as I am sure you have noticed." He laughed at his own joke. "I can offer you a trade, as it goes, I am in need of assistance. You take a walk, tell Mr. Bellick over there you know who the cop killer is. Tell him Trokey did it, ya hear? In return, you will be left alone this evening and all of tomorrow."

Toby thought the pay off was weak, but he would take just about any time amount of time not worried about T-Bag jumping him. That is, if T-Bag kept his word. "That, and I want the photo of my daughter back." Toby glared. He knew he was pressing his luck, but having T-Bag need him had to be a rare thing. He needed to take advantage of his power here.

T-Bag laughed and placed a hand on Toby's chest stepping close enough to share body heat. "You drive a hard bargain and I am pressed for time, but if you're right quick, I am willing to part with your lovely daughter." Toby started to leave the cell, but T-Bag held him up. "Now would be inopportune, as I have yet to plant the incriminating evidence."

"Fine, when would you prefer?" Toby folded his arms over his chest, blocking Bagwell from replacing his earlier position. "And when does my 'reward' begin?"

"You get your photo and your day after Trokey is in the SHU." The older man gripped Toby's wrists. "And don't you think of turning me in instead. Don't think I haven't made some calls. I know that your kid is out Cali. I wouldn't hesitate to place another call, if I were to go down for this Bob thing." Toby's mouth dropped open in fear and awe. He couldn't understand how nor why Theodore figured out where Anna was. He felt sick to his stomach as he thought about the pedophile being loosed on the world again, knowing her location.

A shudder wound its way through Toby. "Nothing will happen to her as long as Trokey takes the fall for this?" T-Bag nodded, a smile spreading across his face.

"That and you only get tomorrow." Toby stepped back, ripping his hands from Bagwell's grip. "Hey, hey. You think tonight is worth more than your little girl's safety?"

"Quit changing the rules..."

"Quit upping the price, Sunny." T-Bag slouched against Toby's bunk, his fingers playing with a nipple through his shirt.

"What do you want tonight?" Toby asked, defeated.

"That's more like it." T-Bag stood up straight. "I'm going to make you cum all over yourself, all in the name of your precious daughter." He gloated, a sick smirk plastered on his face as Toby turned away from him shaking with anger.


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: Eva, I am glad Toby's character is realistic. I think T-Bag finds him amusing and a good lay. He has replaced Maytag in Bagwell's eyes. A companion, more than a friend; but important none-the-less.**

**AN: skpbt, I think it would be so fracking cool if you drew Toby. I am stoked that you dig what's going down. I plan on taking this story pretty damn far. At least I know I will finish the first season, after that it depends on where Toby fits in. He might go all four seasons if the mood strikes me.**

**AN: I do not own any part of Prison Break. I do, however, own Tobias Locke. Enjoy Chapter 17, please.**

Guards standing outside the current cell being tossed, pushed Toby away as he attempted to get to Bellick, who was inside doing the tossing. "Back off, convict." They growled, shoving Toby again. One even took grip on his club that hung loosely from his hip. Toby tensed his jaw and stepped forward again.

"I need to speak with Officer Bellick." Toby was surprised by how confident he had sounded. "I know who killed Bob." That caught their attention. Suddenly, they were more than happy to let him into the cell. Bellick spun around, clearly not trusting that Toby had any real information.

"Yeah? And what do you want for this information, Locke?" Bellick had been around long enough to know that those with information only stepped forward if they stood to gain something. Toby however had nothing to ask for from Bellick. If he requested a new cell, which he really wanted to ask for, then T-Bag would be angry and the deal broken. Toby would likely be killed and his daughter would be fair game once the sicko was out and about. Though it pained him, he had to stick with Bagwell for now.

"Nothing, Sir. Bob was a good man...he didn't deserve to die." Toby didn't even have to lie. Bob was the only officer that had treated him well. Not an equal, but well. Bellick scoffed at Toby, clearly not buying that an inmate would care in the slightest for the well-being of a CO.

"Let's hear that information, Sunshine." Bellick put his own spin on the twisted prison nickname T-Bag had issued Toby. The insult carried a heavy weight, Toby wanted to attack the man. He wanted to hurt him for putting him in with that psycho, for being so cruel. Toby had never been this violent before, prison really does change people.

"Trokey." That was all he could push passed his clenched jaw and bared teeth. It was enough for the pigs, though. They rounded up and charged across the way. Toby slinked back to his hole, feeling terrible for letting Trokey go down for this. The CO's were going to tear the guy apart and he wasn't even the one who deserved it. They found the picture of Bob's daughter lying beneath the racist's mattress and with that in hand, they tackled the confused and angry Trokey. As they dragged him away, he connected the dots and started thrashing and screaming his head off at Bagwell.

"Ya killed a guard. At least take your punishment with dignity, Trokey. No use trying to throw me under the bus." Bagwell brushed him off. Toby was unpleasantly surprised at how easy it was for T-Bag to frame what used to be his closest ally. "You did well, Sunny." He brushed a hand across Toby's hip and arm as he passed. Toby stayed outside of the cell as long as possible.

He looked up to see the group of prison breakers stared down at him and the scene. They wanted T-Bag to go down for this, to get him out of their hair. He didn't blame them. Under different circumstances he would have enjoyed that too. As it were, only Michael looked somewhat relieved. He knew Bagwell was not a dog who barked without biting. He would have squealed on all of them.

Blinking away thoughts of what could have, would have, maybe even should have happened; he knew he had done the right thing for his daughter...Toby just hoped it wouldn't come back to haunt him. T-Bag lounged in the back of the cell, sitting on the chair leaned back against the table. He watched Toby from this spot, balancing on two chair legs. Toby was amusing; Maytag, his previous bitch with the faux hawk, had given up with in a day. He was easily broken and grew boring just as quickly. Toby on the other hand continued to fight him for any victory, no matter how small. Like getting the photo of his daughter back, that was an interesting kick against the chains. T-Bag liked that he would do so much for a photo, even willingly give his body to him.

Theodore almost wished he had more to take from Toby, to negotiate terms again. Making Toby bargain for freedoms; it brought an unusual thrill to T-Bag's day. He leered suggestively as the young man finally made his way into the cell; the bars sliding shut behind him. There was an air of nervousness, but not fear this time. Toby had done as he was asked. T-Bag let his mouth twist into a smile and pressed the final two legs of the chair to the ground. He stood slowly and made his way passed his boy, who flinched away from him into the wall.

This time, T-Bag let down the sheet himself. He heard Toby scurry to the back of the cell before he finally turned to face him. Toby was clenching and unclenching his fists, he shifted his weight side to side between his feet. T-Bag soaked in the image of Toby.

"Get on the bunk, Sunny." T-Bag breathed. He watched in avid fascination as Toby huffed a breath and forced himself to follow through with the order. He sat himself on the edge of the bunk. Still tense, ready to jump. T-Bag slowly made his way over the boy. Toby shivered when he slid a hand down his neck and arm. T-Bag leaned in over the younger man, holding his face in one hand, he pressed their lips together. Toby's mouth tightened and he attempted to pull his face from Bagwell's. "Tsk, tsk, that is no way to get what you want.."

T-Bag's hot rancid breath was like a wave over Toby's face. The younger man swallowed down his disgust and pushed his head forward. His lips brushed against T-Bag's for a brief moment. Toby couldn't make himself lean all the way in to kiss the man. T-Bag snagged his hand in Toby's locks and pushed his face the rest of the way, locking the two together. Bagwell bit lightly at Toby's plump lower lip, his tongue sliding over Toby's reluctant mouth. Eventually, he nudged it open and conquered the boy's sweet entrance. His tongue danced across Toby's, their faces smashed against each other as T-Bag twisted to better his hold on Toby.

He pushed the smaller man down on the bunk, climbing on top of him though never breaking their kiss. Toby closed his eyes tightly, trying to find a happy place. Toby felt Bagwell's hands wind themselves under his shirt, slowing pulling it over his head. Thoughts of his beautiful wife played in the back of Toby's mind. Janice, with her long black hair and soft skin. T-Bag licked slow circles around a hard nipple before taking it in his mouth, sucking. A pleasurable gasp escaped Toby before he could stifle it. Bagwell chortled against his flesh.

A trail of fire scorched Toby's flesh as T-Bag licked his way down his stomach. The man skillfully removed the rest of Toby's clothing without removing himself from Toby's body. "Lift your legs, boy." The rapist moved to kiss Toby's neck and shoulder, while his hands roamed freely over his anatomy. Fear gripped Toby and his body stiffened beneath Bagwell. "I'm not going to hurt you, Sunny. You earned your pleasure. Now fucking lift your legs." T-Bag looked directly into Toby's eyes. His own tinged with anger, but it was smothered with lust. Toby turned his head to the side, he couldn't look at T-Bag and feel the way he was. His arousal was not for this man, his body was betraying him and he hated it.

T-Bag again lowered himself and lifted Toby's legs for him, laying nips and kisses to his inner thighs. The man's mouth found its way to Toby's crack. Swaying his head, he licked the entire length of Toby's valley before entering his quivering hole. "Mmmmm, Sunny, I can almost taste myself in here." T-Bag laughed again as Toby clenched around him. "Calm down, calm down." He patted Toby's flank as the young man tried to block him out.

Bagwell returned to his task, pulsing his tongue into the boy, winding it about. He then replaced it with his agile fingers, stroking against Toby's prostate. Toby moaned and writhed; his dick lengthening against his stomach. "No, stop. I don't want this." He breathily begged.

"If you want that picture back then you will do as I say." T-Bag ground his fingers harder in Toby, stroking strongly against his prostate. Toby bit lip to keep in his moans, but his body was doing all the talking regardless. "And your snake here says that you do want this." T-Bag reached up to grab hold of Toby's face. "I want you to jerk yourself off." He ordered. Toby began to decline but slowly lifted his hand to his hard member. He stroked it slowly, staring at the wire mesh above him. Again his thoughts went to his wife. She would be who he would think of when he came. It would be another small victory over T-Bag. He would only be the one tricking Toby's body.

Pressure built in Toby's stomach and he closed his eyes against his prison surroundings. Janice danced in his mind, her lithe body pressed against his, not Bagwell's. T-Bag added a finger in Toby's hole, thrusting them against his prostate as the boy beneath him came undone. White spindles spit across Toby's stomach and he gasped her name, much to Theodore's disapproval.

He sat back on his haunches, watching as the pleasure waned from Toby's face to be replaced with embarrassment. He hurriedly stood and washed himself, throwing his clothes back on. He began to climb to his bunk when T-Bag latched onto the back on his trousers, pulling him back to the floor. "You are sleeping in my bunk tonight, Sunny."

Toby's mouth dropped open, "That wasn't part of the deal..."

"Nor was letting you call some bitch's name as you came. Get in the bunk." T-Bag stood to put the sheet back up. Toby still stood by the beds when Bagwell turned around. "I said, GET in the bunk!" Bagwell pulled Toby's head down by the nape of his neck. Toby scrambled to the wall, pressing himself into the crease between it and the mattress.

T-Bag was having none of it. He pulled Toby from his safe spot. As the lights went out, he nuzzled into the boy. He draped himself over him. They spooned through the night, with Bagwell's soft snores in Toby's ear. Toby didn't get much sleep that night. The following morning he woke to T-Bag whistling at the sink, shaving the whiskers from his hollow cheeks. When he noticed Toby stir, he tossed the photo of Anna on the bed. "Enjoy your day, Sunny."


	18. Chapter 18

**AN: I got a follower :D omg, thank you! Thank you! Thank you! That is so cool. In honor of my first follower...you will all get a bundle of chapters :)**

Toby roamed the yard, a free-ish man for the entire day. It wasn't much, but it felt like a great victory. That was until Toby thought about the fact that T-Bag still knew where his daughter was. He eventually made his way over to the phones that sat near the edge of the yard. He knew the number by heart but hadn't called it in over ten years. He and his sister had never got along, and the relationship got worse when she married that pompous asshole husband of hers.

Toby put his fingers on the buttons, he couldn't quite make himself push them down. His sister would not want to hear from him. She wouldn't want him to talk to his daughter...Toby was criminal scum now. A convict. A felon. She had promised this would happen when he left home all those years ago. Finally, he pressed the receiver to his ear, listening to muted ringing. Regardless of how things were between them, he had to warn them. He had to protect his little girl from the dangers he was dragging into their lives. What a sad excuse of a father he was. He couldn't believe the things he was putting his daughter through.

"Hello, this the Crawford residence. Alan speaking." It was their son. He was about thirteen now. His voice was changing, you could hear it crackle and squeak through the shotty connection. Toby hadn't seen him since he was in diapers.

"Hey, Alan. It's Uncle Toby. Is your mom around?" Toby scraped his fingers through his hair and down to his neck. He was so nervous to speak with her. He almost wanted to just hang up and leave a message with the boy.

"Uh, yeah. One sec." Alan pressed the phone to his chest, but Toby could still hear as he shouted through the house 'Mom! Do I have an Uncle Toby?!' There was a pause, Toby couldn't hear how she responded but his nephew shouted back 'Well, he wants to talk to you!' "She will be right down." Alan relayed to Toby before setting the phone down on the counter and wandering off.

Toby waited for what seemed like forever before his sister finally reached the phone. "Hello, Tobias." Her voice was stern and distant. She was so angry with him for everything. For being such an ass as kids, for getting that slut of his knocked up, for leaving her alone in that house, for never contacting her through the years, for getting thrown in prison, for leaving Anna alone like her. Toby and Katherine had never been close, but without him there to take the beatings, their father turned to her. It was hard growing up, for the both of them, and Katherine grew to despise her brother more after he left. She blamed him for everything that followed.

"Hi, Kathy. It's been a while." He tried to keep his voice chipper, when all he was feeling was despair. "How have you been?"

At first she didn't answer but then, quietly, "She misses you. A lot. She cries every night. She says she left the lights on for you. Whatever that means." Kathy snorted. Tears sprung to Toby's eyes and a bubble formed in his throat.

"Is she there? Can I speak to her?" His voice faltered.

"I think it best if you don't. She isn't going to see you for the next ten years...if not more, Toby. You cannot do that to her. She would think she was going to see you again." Toby nodded, though his sister wouldn't know that. A tear leaked down his face and he quickly wiped it away.

"Kathy, someone in here has found out where you are. He is threatening me. I don't know how he did it but be cautious. I would say leave, find somewhere else, but I know you won't. You were always stubborn." He choked back tears. "Take care of my little girl, Katherine. Don't let her out of your sights." He hung up. Toby rested his forehead against the top for the phones, the receiver still in his hands. Taking a deep breathe he placed the receiver on the holder and turned around.

From across the way Toby watched as another slight looking guy wandered about. He had a thin, drawn face and walked with his shoulders hunched forward. Toby had never spoken to the guy, but that was because he had his own problems...like Avocado. Avocado was to this kid as T-Bag was to Toby. A sicko, a vicious reminder of what they did and where they were. Toby felt a sort of kinship with the guy. Poor Cherry, as he was called. His real name escaped Toby.

Cherry arrived shortly before the full scale riot. He was put in with Avocado immediately. He never had the privilege of personal space or quiet comradeship like Toby had with Westmoreland. It was rape and pain from minute one. He was wasting away, never eating and never speaking to anyone. Lifting his head, Toby walked confidently to the man. "Hi, Cherry, right?" Toby smiled.

The smaller man shrank into himself, his eyes showed only fear and apprehension. "I..I am Toby. What's your real name?" Toby's smile felt fake. Cherry thought he was just going to be another predator. Even with his small stature, this guy only knew evil. He didn't see Toby. Hell, he barely looked from his shoes, he probably had not even saw Toby on T-Bag's pocket.

"Seth..." He whimpered. His eyes dropped again.

"Nice to meet you, Seth." Toby refreshed his smile, hoping to get one in return. He wasn't pleased. Seth didn't even move. "I know what you are going through..." Toby tried a different way to get to the guy. Seth shrugged, everyone knew what he was going through.

Toby sighed, and folded his arms. Seth was impossible to reach. "I'm here for you if you want to talk. Seriously. I get it, ok. I...yeah." Toby turned to leave.

"Thanks..." Seth muttered behind him. Toby twisted his head back to catch the only time Seth lifted his eyes from the ground. He nodded, seeing Avocado begin to make his way over. Toby wished he had the balls to stay there and show Seth that he had his back, but all bravado aside, Toby had no power in here. He was just another punk. Avocado wouldn't hesitate to put both of them in the infirmary.

T-Bag would be angry, but at Toby. Avocado would be justified in beating him. Toby would be trying to overstep his bounds and involve himself in something that was not his business. Hell, Toby would probably get another beating from T-Bag for it. So, he acted like he hadn't seen Avocado trudge his large frame across the weeds. He just turned back and walked away. Leaving that frale man behind; last Toby saw, Seth had been roughly snatched by the scruff of his neck and drug away to some dark and sinister corner.


	19. Chapter 19

Toby approached Michael and party shortly after ditching Seth and avoiding T-Bag, which wasn't all that difficult beings the man seemed to be living up to his end of the bargain. Michael, Sucre, and Abruzzi were leaning against the fences near the enclosures used for the death row inmates to enjoy the outdoors. Sucre was first to notice Toby and nudged Michael. They turned, quiet, waiting to see what he had to say.

"Uh, hey...I was wondering if I could go with you guys...you know, when you, um, take off?" Toby's hands buried themselves in his pockets, his shoulders sagging beneath the pressure of this question. T-Bag was trying to force himself and Toby on a group that wanted nothing to do with them; especially T-Bag. Toby hoped that if he spoke with them, he could figure a way onto the team. Getting away from that monster and, more importantly, back to his daughter was all he could think about.

"Sorry, kid. No openings." Abruzzi snarled, squaring off with Toby. He was so much bigger that he nearly blocked the sun behind him. Toby gulped. He couldn't give up.

"There's gotta be something I can do. Come on, I can't survive another ten years with T-Bag..." His voice trailed off and he looked around. Suddenly he feared that T-Bag may have overheard him. To his relief, Bagwell was on his bleachers with his gang, laughing about something or another. Every now and then, he would eye Toby. Keeping tabs on where he wandered off to with his 'freedom'; after all, T-Bag still had an obligation to protect the whelp.

"You roomed with Westmoreland when you first got here." Michael started, cutting off whatever Abruzzi had begun to threaten. "We need him to do us a favor. Get him to agree to take a certain coffee pot into the guards' room and turn on the burner. Then we will talk." Michael's words confounded Toby. What the hell would they need to heat a coffee pot for, let alone in the guards' break room? Toby nodded anyway, pretending he understood how that would aid in the escape.

"If I do this...If you let me in on the escape and not T-Bag, he is going to know that I betrayed him. He will kill me, or worse. If Charles helps, will you help me?" Toby pleaded his eyes never straying from the sets of shoes ahead of him. Sucre looked to Michael, his kind hearted ways getting the better of him. Silently he pushed for Toby and Michael, though cautious to trust Toby, nodded stiffly.

Abruzzi declared, "You get the Old Head, I'll get you a new cell." Toby was overjoyed, he actually smiled a genuine smile for the first time in who knows how long. It was short lived, of course, for Abruzzi had to issue warnings and threats to coincide with the rewards. Still, Toby was pleased.

He immediately spun away from the trio and straight to the chess boards he went. Charles sat there nearly everyday, so it was easy for Toby to find him. He looked like crap. His head hung low and his body hunched. "Charles, what's up?" Toby sat roughly down on the opposite side of the table.

"Oh, Marilyn's missing. Has been since the riot. I'm worried about her." The old man shook his head slowly. Toby felt for him, the only way Charles had kept a clean record in here was to not associate with anyone in here. All he had was Marilyn...and well, now, he also had Toby but that was different. Toby changed the topic, knowing it was best to avoid such an emotional subject with everyone watching.

"You work in the guards' room, right?" Toby already knew the answer.

"Look, Michael has tried this one earlier this morning. The answer is still no. I will not jeopardize my parole like that." Toby was taken aback. They had sent him on a failed mission. They knew he wouldn't succeed in getting Charles to agree. He had been set up to fail and anger boiled in his chest.

"It's okay, Charles. I just thought I'd ask." Toby played it off. He sat there a moment longer but it had grown awkward so he decided to walk away. Charles forced a weak smile, a goodbye of sorts as Toby stood. He felt so down trodden; Toby moped his way to the fence line and leaned against it. The metal was cold against his back, he could feel it through his shirt. It raised gooseflesh up his neck. Toby absentmindedly rubbed at his skin, lost in thought. He didn't know how he was going to get Charles to help.

Toby watched as the prison priest made his way into the chapel. With all its glory and splendor, it was merely a building. A building with nice windows, but a building nonetheless. Toby had tried the God thing before; he even attempted prayer here, but to no avail. Either God had turned his back on Toby, or he was a just figment of hope. It puzzled Toby that people would put their entire lives, their health, in the hands of a being they had no proof existed. He had his own evidence saying that Satan rather than God had been meddling in Toby's life.

Around the back end of the the chapel's frame, slinked a glistening blob of fur. Toby nearly jumped from the fence. That was it, Marilyn. That'd be how he would get Charles to help. He made a mad dash to the side of the chapel and scooped the feline up in his arms. "Good kitty, kitty." He coaxed the struggling animal. She did not trust Toby, that was for sure. He turned on his heel, stilling looking down at the adorable squirming form, and ran into a brick wall of a man.

Toby's head snapped up, giving him a bad case of whiplash. In front of him stood one of the biggest men Toby had ever encountered. He was giant and dark and all muscle. The hulk smirked at the look on Toby's face. Without a word, he took a step towards Toby and hand reached out to caress the smaller man's cheek.

"Don't touch me!" Toby dipped away from the giant's paw, sidestepping to find an opening. The beast stepped in his way again.

"You're on the wrong side of the yard, Snowflake." He stepped forward again and Toby stepped back.

"Come on, Man, leave me alone. I didn't do anything to you." Toby pleaded. A sinister twinkle grew brighter in those angry pitch dark eyes.

"How's about you just suck my cock, like a good little Nazi, and I let you live." He smirked.

"What?! I'm not part of that. I'm no racist." Toby screeched as he was cornered against the chapel.

"Go back to begging me to let you go. I liked that." He chuckled deep in chest. The brute was so close, his belly would brush against Toby as he breathed. Toby was shaking with despair. His one day away from T-Bag and he was going to be raped anyway. The man leaned down, grabbing and twisting a lock of Toby's hair; his face too close to Toby's.

An impatient cough sounded behind the two, followed by the crunch of dead grass as more feet joined. Toby peaked around the hulk to see the someone he never thought he would be glad to see. "Now see, I thought that we had an agreement about my boys. You. Don't. Touch. Them. Unless you talk to me about it and I do not remember us ever having a conversation about Sunny here." T-Bag's fingers twitched near his pocket, like a cowboy at the holster of his pistol. A few Aryan's waited behind their leader, cracking their knuckles for the beat down.

Suddenly the giant stood upright and faced T-Bag directly. "He came to my territory. I call that an invitation." He folded his arms across his chest. T-Bag just shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Sunny, get over here." T-bag ordered. Toby complied readily, he scrambled out from behind the hulking form. T-Bag grabbed him tightly by the shoulder and dragged him away to the bleachers. From behind them, Toby heard the Aryans attack his would be rapist. "I leave you alone from a few hours and look at the trouble you cause." T-Bag scolded before dissolving into chuckles. "Why do you have the Old Head's cat, Sunny?"

"Oh, uh, I saw her over by the chapel. I went to get her back for him." Toby relaxed his death grip on the animal. He had completely forgotten about her in all the excitement.

"Well, aren't you sweet... now git along little doggy. Your day is drawing to a close." T-bag smacked Toby's ass as he rose to leave. "Stay outta trouble, ya hear." He called after the boy.


	20. Chapter 20

Toby couldn't help but shudder whenever T-Bag touched him. He hated every moment spent with that monster. He was just glad he wouldn't have to deal with him for the next few hours. Toby strolled over to where Westmoreland still lounged at the chess tables.

"You found her! Where was she?" The old man's eyes gleamed. Toby warmed Toby to light up his day like that.

"She was over by the chapel." Toby stroked the cat in his hands as Charles' face sunk once again.

"This has a favor attached, doesn't it. Don't you understand, I can't help you guys." Toby allowed Marilyn to jump from his arms to the table, where she made her way into Westmoreland's lap.

"I understand, Charles. I get it, I do. It sucks, but I understand." Toby tried to smile. "I just wanted to give you your friend." He sighed, there goes his plan; his only way to get away from all this. He was disheartened; he was going to be with T-bag for the foreseeable future and Anna would be tainted by his sister's hate.

"Thank you, Tobias. It means alot." Charles offered as Toby stood to leave. He nodded sadly, shuffling away. All the inmates followed suit, heading inside for the day.

Toby dreaded going to the showers. He was almost raped once today, it'd be that much easier if he was already naked. Sitting in their cell, Toby paced for a few seconds before snatching up his change of clothes. And though he hated to do it, Toby had to request Bagwell's presence. "T-Bag, do you want to take a shower?" Toby muttered.

Amused, the older man rolled to a sitting position on his bunk. "Come again, Sunny. Was that you asking for some lovin' on you day off? My, my, didn't know you'd miss me so much." He chortled. Toby raked his free hand through his hair. T-Bag knew that wasn't what he wanted.

"After what happened in the yard, could you just please come with me..." Toby muttered quietly. Admitting that he needed Bagwell's protection was sickening. Toby wanted to hurl; this would only make T-Bag worse. He would hold it over Toby forever. Theodore licked his lips in his trademark fashion before finally rising from his bunk to grab his towel and clothes.

"Let's go, but this means your day is over." The pedophile purred. Toby shuddered but couldn't possibly go another day without a shower. The grease in his hair rivalled Abruzzi and it grossed him completely out. His attempt to be too dirty to fuck had backfired repeatedly. Nothing seemed to bother T-Bag enough to keep his dick in his pants.

With a nod, Toby stepped from the cell heading for the far end of the cell block with T-Bag following right behind, admiring the view. From the corner of his eye Toby saw Westmoreland heading towards the showers as well. Great, now the only friend he had in this place was going to watch him get bent over in the showers...

* * *

Toby shrugged off his clothing and nimbly picked them up off the floor. After folding them neatly and putting them in a small locker bin, he finally turned to see T-Bag admiring his handiwork, again. Toby had accumulated a number of scars from old bite marks and shanks that T-Bag seemed to pull from nowhere. They marred his shoulders and neck mostly, but he had one swooping scar that stretched his lower stomach. It stopped just above his pubic line.

T-Bag had given it to him when Toby had refused to roll onto his stomach the second time Bagwell had taken him. Toby mindlessly fingered it, tracing its path up to his hip bone and down again. He froze when he found T-Bag following his fingers' pattern with lusty eyes, his tongue rolling along his lower lip. The man's eyes flicked to Toby's when the boy ceased moving. With a slow sick smile, he waited for Toby to enter the showers first, keeping an awkward closeness between them.****

There were a few other inmates in the open shower space. There was no privacy, only a small wall coming up to Toby's armpit sectioned the room into halves but other than that it was just rows of shower heads and naked bodies. Today they were sparse, less than ten people occupied the area. Charles was on the other side of the wall from Toby and to his surprise Seth was in there too. He was alone and in the far corner, keeping a wary watch on the guys around him.

Toby turned to face the wall, which housed the knobs to adjust the temperature of the water. They hardly worked; it was always either scorching or freezing. The showers were timed to shut off after fifteen minutes, but the guards didn't stop you from turning it back on again. Toby's happened to be a little too hot and he jumped back, knocking into T-Bag. "Sorry." He quickly muttered.

"Watch yourself, Sunny." T-Bag drawled, clearly not angry with the contact. The older man stepped around Toby into the stream of his shower. Toby sighed, turning to move to the next shower over. "Nuh, uh, Sunny. We are sharing this shower." T-Bag's face was tilted up into the water, washing back his hair. The heat of the liquid reddened his face and chest.

"T-Bag, I paid for my day..." Toby started, but was cut off abruptly.

"And then you chose to have me keep you company, effectively ending your alone time, Boy." T-Bag turned his head away from the water, which dripped from his lips as he spoke. Toby struggled to find a way out of it. He couldn't accept that he would not be getting to sleep alone this evening. "Who'd you rather have, Sunny, me or some big nigger? Maybe one of them Spics strike your fancy?" T-Bag leered as Toby paled at the thought of being raped in the showers. "I could arrange a reminder as to why you are under my protection, if that's what you need."

Toby glared with all of his might, but T-Bag did not take it seriously. He just stood there, smiling with his imminent triumph. After a few long, awkward seconds of silence; T-Bag reached out his arm, offering the bar of soap. Toby stared at it, sickened by all that it meant. Eventually he swallowed his pride and pulled it from the other's hand. He stepped forward into to the water, carefully avoiding eye contact with T-bag. A throaty chuckle stirred behind him close enough for the breath to tickle Toby's neck hairs.

It took a second to acclimate to the heat of the water; like dipping your toe in a pool, but head first. Toby hissed as his skin complained and lowered his head into the stream, scrubbing the soap between his hands. He was careful with his grip on the bar, knowing the consequences for letting it slip. T-Bag was being all too quiet and out of sight, somewhere behind Toby, beyond his field of vision. Toby ignored the urge to locate the rapist, he didn't want to see him, but feared letting him have the element of surprise.

He set the soap on the ledge attached to the wall to lather his body and hair, stepping out of the steamy water. The cold of the air was unsettling, causing Toby's flesh to prickle. T-Bag eyed his boy closely, taking every movement, every sound. Sunny fascinated him, how he tried so hard to ignore Theodore's presence. It brought a smile to his face. He bathed in how scared the boy was of him. It was like a drug and T-Bag wanted a fix. He couldn't resist wanting to touch Sunny; to make him shudder and tremble under his attention.

Toby had heard T-Bag shift before he felt hands upon his sides. One hand curled around to palm his flat stomach, while the other wandered up and across his shoulders. T-Bag stepped close enough to share body heat, but not to touch. Eerily close, he could smell the mix of soap and tension on his prag. He loved the way Toby froze, like a deer in the headlights. As if Toby could disappear by not moving, his hands halted their scrubbing at the plains of his chest. T-Bag rubbed and kneaded the flesh of Toby's neck; breathing in his scent.

Toby felt T-Bag's arousal rise to meet his thigh, grazing it unintentionally. The younger man shrugged off the hands that held him, pulling away from the disturbing contact. He stepped into burning liquid again. Toby raced his hands over his body. Trying to rinse as quickly as possible so that he may leave and cover his vulnerable nudity. T-Bag had other ideas, as he watched the ropes of water roll across Toby's milky flesh. He reached around Toby, grasping the bar of soap and stepping into the shower as well. T-Bag rubbed the bar across his body as the back of his hands brushed against Toby. He purred into Toby's ears, feeling the quickness of his breath and the brisk thudded heartbeats against his circling hands. "How many times to I have to tell you Sunny? You need to relax, it hurts less that way." The older man cooed, allowing the distance between them to disappear entirely as he replaced the soap to the ledge. Icy fear surged in Toby and he stepped away from Bagwell. T-Bag used Toby's momentum to crush him against the wall, the bar of soap sitting inches from the younger man's face.

Toby drew in a ragged breath, "T-Bag don't do this, please... I did as you asked, now live up to your part of the deal." Toby trembled against Bagwell, his muscles tense and screaming for him to run. T-Bag ran his hands over Toby, enjoying the way Sunny's body reacted. The way it shuddered and twitched, the way his boy's breath hitched every time T-bag's fingered touched sensitive spots; it was intoxicating. The fear was a wave that crashed over Toby; it overloaded his senses, causing him to feel everything that T-Bag was doing as though it were one million times more intimate. Every sound, every scent, was amplified. T-Bag had a musk Toby doubted he would ever forget. The man was a mix of clean soapy smells and hints of cinnamon. It wasn't an unpleasant smell on its own but it was tainted with whom it belonged to. "Please..." Toby nearly whimpered.

"Mmmmm, the way you beg for me is...why I don't think there is a word to describe it." T-Bag pressed his face into Toby's wet neck. "However, you do have a point; you did do my bidding well..." Bagwell arched against the boy, driving his hips forward. He grinded his stone hard member against Toby; his body demanding to be inside. Strangled sounds of terror escaped the small man as he whispered pleas; begging to be released from this hold, to get out of here without being intruded.

T-Bag shifted back into the water, rinsing the rest of the soap from his hair. Clean, he turned on his his heel and headed for the door to the locker room. "See you in a few hours Sunny." He tossed over his shoulder. Toby slumped against the wall; adrenaline ebbing away, leaving him tired and feeling weak. After a few seconds he pushed himself from the stone and finished washing himself. He felt the eyes from around the room but he couldn't look at them.

Toby rushed to his towel and clothing. He kept his gaze on the wall as he dried himself. He was so zoned out; he almost didn't hear the small cough behind him. Cherry cleared his throat again, waiting for Toby to turn and face him.

"I know what you are going through... and I'm here for you if you want to talk." Seth quoted Toby quietly, as if afraid someone would over hear the coded message. Toby looked over his shoulder at the mousy boy and nodded. He was happy to know that Seth had accepted his friendship even if there was nothing either could do about their situations.

Toby threw on his t-shirt and headed back to the cell block. He jogged to catch up with Westmoreland in the hallway. "Hey, Charles. I need a book to read."

"I'd say. You could use any escape from that man." Neither one looked at the other, as though it were impolite to do so. "Drop by my cell, I've got a good one for you." The two distanced, as they entered the block. It was tier time. Toby began to head for his cell when he noticed a group formed around the entrance to Westmoreland's. He rushed over in time to see a heartbroken Charles draw the limp body of Marilyn to his chest. She was killed while they were showering. 'Who would kill an innocent animal?' Toby wondered.

He pushed his way through the crowd to reach his distraught friend. Upon arrival, Toby was ignored as Charles glared upward with tears in his eyes. Following his gaze, Toby found it to pointed at none other than a very angry looking Bellick. "I'm in," Charles muttered before turning back into his cell. Stunned, Toby stood there a moment longer, watching the old man lay Marilyn gently on the bed. He shifted his eyes up again only to see Bellick staring right back. Toby didn't know what had caused him to be so angry. After all, Toby had just given him the 'murderer' of Bob yesterday, but he was sure he would be finding out soon enough.


	21. Chapter 21

Sitting in a cell with a sexually frustrated T-Bag was like slowly twisting a bolt into your skull. He was irritable from the blue balls, constantly flipping from angry to sultry, and using any excuse to brush up against Toby. When yard time finally rolled back around, Toby lurched out of the cell. Bagwell had kept his word so far, but with the way he was acting, Toby didn't know how much longer he would refrain from raping him once again. It was like the pedophile was in heat. Toby figured it was more to do with not being able to take what he wanted when he wanted, than that he actually needed Toby's body.

In the yard, Toby made his way over to Michael, "Charles is in." He only nodded, maintaining his aloof expression. Toby knew hiding somewhere behind his mask, Scofield was impressed that Toby pulled it off. Even if the reason Charles was helping had nothing to do with Toby, he was willing to take the credit to get away from T-Bag permanently. No sooner had he thought it and black billows of smoke wafted from the guard's breakroom. The fire roared brilliantly strong for nearly an hour; whatever had been in that room was destroyed beyond all repair. This meant that the PI team would be sent in the fix it. They were the cheapest labor to hire.

Toby followed Michael over to where Abruzzi sat with his fellow Italians. When he saw the duo approaching his sent the others away. "Well, well, Sunny. I did not think you had it in you." Abruzzi smirked. "I guess you've got a cell transfer coming your way?"

"And a PI card?" Toby shuffled his feet nervously.

Abruzzi grunted with a nod, "you'll have it in time for work tomorrow." Toby tried not to show how excited he was that he would not only be out of T-Bag's cell, but shortly, out of prison. It was like a dream come true, except that he would be hunted by law enforcement for the rest of his life. He wasn't going to let that get him down, though. Sooner than Toby would have liked, it was time to head in for the final tier time before lights out.

Bellick was a ball of anger because, as it turns out, it was his cigarette that started the break room fire. Toby had to hand it to Charles, that was a brilliant way to get back at the bastard for killing Marilyn. However, now he was bearing down extra hard on the convicts. He was brutal, taking every little thing as a threat and more than happy to beat the rebellion out of you.

"Locke." Bellick growled from his stance by the guard's observation room. Toby's head was spinning, trying to come up with anything he could have done to piss the badge off.

"Yes, Boss." Toby scooted over to the man.

"Pope heard about your little issues with T-Bag and apparently your transfer out of the Old Head's cell wasn't recorded. That means I got my ass chewed. You are on my shit list for squealing boy." His hand rested on his billy club, begging for an excuse to bludgeon Toby.

"Sir, I didn't talk to anyone. I swear!" Looks like Abruzzi still didn't like Toby because he sure didn't try to keep the transfer out of T-Bag's under the radar. He didn't even know how it had been done so fast, but now Bellick was an enemy. And a powerful one at that.

"Like I haven't heard that one before...go grab your shit, you're moving back to Westmoreland's." He shoved Toby hard in the direction of T-Bag, who was lazily watching the scene unfold. He knew something was up and he didn't think he was going to like the outcome one bit. Toby slid into the cell and threw everything in a box. He patted himself down, making sure he still had the photo of his daughter on him. She was resting in his back pocket, much to Toby's relief.

"This ain't over, Sunny." Bagwell stopped Toby on his way out of the cell. Bellick, though more than willing to let T-Bag have his fun, had other places to be; so, he rushed Toby to his new home.

Westmoreland was happy to welcome Toby back, but was even quieter than usual. Not that Toby blamed him; he was mourning Marilyn's death. It hadn't been but a few hours since he found her. Bellick made sure to rub salt in that wound before he left. Come to think of it, Abruzzi couldn't have been the one to put in for the transfer; Bellick had been angry with Toby since before Charles had accepted helping them with the break room. If it wasn't the mob boss that did it, then who was?

* * *

Toby's card still hadn't come by the time PI was called, the next day, but Michael and Abruzzi vouched for him. Apparently, Abruzzi's men hadn't had time to make it yet or something. Toby didn't really care as long as he was kept in on everything. The group was lead into a locker room where they put on their blue jumpsuits and headed for the burned down building. They were walking a pathway on the other side of the yard's fences as the rest of the inmates were roaming about during yard time.

T-Bag noticed Toby from his seat at the bleachers. He'd been and still was pissed that the bitch had had himself moved out. T-Bag would have to teach him a lesson; show him that the distance would not keep him safe. For now, though, he just needed to get on that PI team; so T-Bag sprinted to the fences. "Hey,hold up here, Boss. There seems to be a bit of confusion. I am supposed to be on this, uh, detail."

"I don't think so." Abruzzi turned his head to the guard leading them.

"Aww, come on now. John, you can't be serious. Not after our long illustrious history together, not after all those nights in New York City, in California...in St. Louis." T-Bag threaded his hands into the fence. He knew he had them trapped. "Tell the badge about it, because, you know, if you don't want to...I always could." Michael turned to Abruzzi, the decision was made and T-Bag was taken to be outfitted for the work.

The group waited in the break room, which was utterly destroyed. The walls were barely there and the smell of smoke was overpowering. It made Toby nauseous, and he only felt more so when T-Bag strolled through the doors, behind him. "Afternoon, Sunny. It's been a while..." Toby suppressed a shudder as Bellick started in on all that needed to be done in there. Abruzzi made up some nonsense about asbestos to make sure they wouldn't be bothered by guards too much. Toby was distracted, he couldn't concentrate on what he was being told to do because he had a predator standing just behind him, breathing down his neck. His hand seem to touch the back Toby's thigh all too often.

"And if any of you are thinking of getting cute, trying to trunk one of these tools...Brady's got the outline on every piece in here and at the end of each day they better match up, or you're all going to the hole." Bellick shoulder checked Toby on his way by, forcing Toby back into T-Bag.

Bagwell chuckled, "I don't know what you did to piss the Cap'n off but I'd watch yourself if I were you." He pressed his hands to Toby's back, shoving the boy off of him. Michael circled the room before grabbing hold of the rug on the floor. He pulled it away to reveal a drain in the center of the floor.

"This goes down four feet connecting with the old sewer system below the prison. All we have to do is widen it and we've got ourselves an on ramp to Route 66." Michael stepped back to grab a few sledge hammers, handing one to Lincoln and one for himself; he paused, eyeing T-Bag.

"Come on Pretty, we're a team now." T-bag shrugged. Eventually Michael accepted him and handed over a hammer. Toby jumped to grab the carpeting and lay it over the hole. "What are you doing Sunny?"

"Well, um, this way they won't hear..." Toby looked around to everyone.

"Good thinking, Toby." Michael nodded as Lincoln smashed down the first hammer. Toby got to work on the walls, tearing the burnt sections away. Abruzzi sat on the edge of the table, overseeing everything, while Sucre headed out to keep a lookout for guards. They all worked for a few hours, trading off jobs to keep everyone fresh. The hole seemed to barely open up even after the group was tuckered out.


	22. Chapter 22

**AN: Sorry it is so short. The next one will be longer, promise :)**

**AN: Also, I'm sorry Eva, but it had to be done. A certain character needs this predator later. I hated to do this after I saw your review... D':**

The following day they started where they had left off. Toby slammed his hammer down as hard and as quick as he could. He was covered in sweat and was only out worked by Lincoln who was bordering madness in his work speed. T-Bag tapped the metal door with the clipboard he was holding on the outside of the room, a guard was coming. Toby threw his hammer in the wheelbarrow and helped stretch the carpet back over the hole while Michael and Abruzzi lifted the table. They barely had it covered when Bellick burst into the room.

"What do you think this is..siesta?" Bellick goaded Sucre, who stopped to catch his breath. Toby stepped outside, pretending to look for a tool. "See that," Bellick gestured behind him to the Employee of the Month board. "See my face right there. You know how that got there? Work. Ethic. Those two words mean anything to you? You are on PI; so quit slow walking me. I'm not going to warn you again." The pig strode out the door, snarling at Toby. "What are you looking at?"

Toby shook his head and looked away. He took a step away from Bellick who snorted, finding Toby's non-confrontational reaction to be funny. T-Bag couldn't help but smirk at it as well, the boy was tailor made to be a bitch. When Bellick was out of sight T-Bag tapped the clipboard again on the door. He turned back to Toby, fixing to say something off color and teaming with sexual innuendo. Toby glared, "Don't even start..." and stomped back inside to work.

Michael shut the door behind Toby and they began pounding the concrete floor. It quickly became apparent that something needed to be done about the crumbled pieces that littered the floor. It would be the end of their escape attempt, if Bellick or another CO found them and therefore the hole. "We are going to have to get rid of this," Michael picked up a piece of rubble. "One piece at a time."

Toby stuffed his pockets with the little rocks to drop out in the yard. He watched as Michael and Abruzzi mashed them into the ground with their boots and followed suit. Toby wandered the fence lines, releasing a few pieces every now and then. He made his rounds, finishing off the last of his pocket load, when a bus turned into the prison driveway. Toby stopped to watch.

"What's going on?" He asked as Michael joined to his right.

"Freshman!" T-Bag cheered, appearing to his left. Twenty or so new inmates unloaded from the bus. Some looked as scared as Toby had felt when he arrived, others had clearly been through the system before. T-Bag's eye caught a fine piece of man shuffle in the line. He was trying to act so tough, but it was obviously a false bravado. Bagwell bit down on his lower lip, "Mmm."

The inmates were directed inside. They had to be locked up before the fish were directed to their new cellmates. Toby followed Sucre and Michael in, they were joking about how Michael could no longer be called fish, beings he wasn't the newest in the tank anymore. Toby chuckled along with them. They entered the cell block, jovial for the first time since Toby had arrived. Sucre's sentence drifted off as they came upon a horrific scene. Cherry stood atop the railings on the second tier, his blanket tied the cell bars and wrapped around his neck.

"No!" Toby shouted, surging through the crowd and up the stairs. He arrived too late, as Seth dangled below. Toby tried to pull him back up but blanket kept slipping in his hands. No one moved, they just stood and stared. Shocked by the suicide. CO's flooded in, shoving Toby out of the way as they lowered the body to the ground. Toby saw Avocado amidst the other half of the crowd. He leaned against a pole, looking oddly amused by the death of his bitch. That monster had driven frail, little Seth over the edge and he couldn't care less.


	23. Chapter 23

Toby lounged against a building in the yard. That kid from the bus that T-Bag was after had been making some poor decisions. Since minute one he'd been trying to get in good with the black gangs; they would not tolerate a white guy acting the wrong race. They called him a milk-chicken, which Toby still didn't understand how that correlated. Here in the yard, he was doing the same thing. He was out by the basketball courts, trying to talk to Benjamin Miles Franklin known as C-note in Fox River.  
C-note was a wares kind of guy. You wanted something, he could get it for a cost. His prices ran high but he always came through. Unfortunately, the new kid wasn't there for business so he wasn't welcome. A group shooed him off and Toby could tell that the kid was lost as to why they didn't like him. "Boy doesn't seem to know what color he is..." T-Bag popped out of nowhere.  
Toby continued looking his current direction, hoping that if he ignored T-Bag then he would go away. "Sure quiet today, Sunny. Cat gotcha tongue?" Bagwell shifted, leaning close to Toby. "I see, now, you think because you got yourself a cell change that I don't own you. Well, you are dead wrong there, boy. This unpleasant distance we are currently experiencing will not deter me from taking what is mine." He paused looking over at the new kid, "But, I could use some fresh tail in the meantime..."  
Back inside the cell block, Toby overheard one T-Bag's aryan buddies talking down to the new guy. He was calling him a disgrace to his skin and what not. Suddenly the brute punch the boy in the chest and he fell hard on his knee. Toby flinched for the guy, that had to hurt like a son of a bitch.  
And there was T-Bag to rescue, "The boy just slipped. He just slipped." The CO's turned back to whatever conversation they were having as T-Bag 'helped' the boy back to his feet. Toby knew from experience that this was the beginning of the end for the kid. T-Bag brushed off the boy's back and legs, barely hiding his enjoyment. "Wha'cha name boy?" T-Bag questioned, all kind and caring.  
"Uh, David Apolskis." The buzzer sounded, calling for all inmates to get to their cells. Toby tossed restlessly the whole night. He wouldn't let David be taken by T-Bag. Everything he'd seen and felt because of that man...no, he couldn't let another be dragged through it. So, the next day as they were going out to the yard, Toby caught up to David. "Hey, I'm Tobias Locke. How are you doing in here so far?"  
Of course, Toby already knew that he was having a rough time finding his place but he figured it would be better if David could speak for himself. "Yo dawg, it's whatever. I mean homies be trippin' but I can handle dat." David spoke a whole different language and Toby had a hard time following.  
"Yeah...it can be rough, but it is prison." Toby shrugged as they waited for the gates to be opened to the yard. "Just one bit of advice, keep out the way of the Southern guy. Alright, T-Bag's dangerous." David burst into laughter.  
"Dude's name is T-Bag. Aw shit, bro, you had me worried fo' a min. Seriously, guy sounds like a straight up bitch." Toby half heartedly smiled.  
"His nickname comes from his real name, Theodore Bagwell, and it would be better to keep those kinds of opinions to yourself. He has a lot of friends in here." Toby looked around for a second, but T-Bag was already off into the yard with his gang in tow. "Just be careful, okay?" Toby walked away. David was an odd one, that's for sure. Toby feared he would be beaten and probably killed for his 'gangster' antics. His looks alone would probably get him into just as much trouble. He had dirty blonde hair, buzzed on the sides and a little tattoo he proudly showed on his bicep.

David sat himself on some bleachers not far from where Toby stood, leaning against a fence. The two were a good ten feet from each other and T-bag's group was roosting on 'his' bleachers three sets down. Toby had been lost in his thoughts as T-Bag slithered past and up to sit next to David. "Not a good position you find yourself in now is it? Whites don't wantcha, blacks don't wantcha. You're just caught in the middle aren'tcha...a regular Tweener." T-Bag chuckled.

Toby pushed himself away from the fences, catching that T-Bag was again messing with David. "We're different, you and me, in a lot ways...but you know what the funny thing is, we're also a lot alike." T-Bag continued. "Couple of dogs with runny noses that nobody loves." The pedophile lazily dragged his eyes down Tweener's body before setting his hand on the inside of the kid's knee. "How's that knee by the way?"

Tweener jumped from the bleachers, smacking T-Bag's hand away. "What the hell you doin'?"

"No, no, no. Don't get me wrong, I'm just a friend." The pedophile justified.

"Yeah, a fruity friend. I don't need none a that!" Tweener paced.

"Easy now..." Bagwell drawled.

"You think you gettin' up in this, you got another thing comin'...you homo!" The kid went off.

A look of bewilderment flickered over T-Bag's face before it settled into sly. "You have got a foul mouth. You know that?" Toby saw remnants of anger stir in the predator.

"Yeah, I do. And you come near me again, I'm gonna kill you." Toby stepped around the bleachers, ready to step in if T-Bag decided to attack the mouthy boy. Hell, Toby had been beaten around the block and he had never threatened the southerner. He feared for Tweener's life.

"Well, then you are just goin'a have to Little Man." A smile tugged on T-Bag's face. His eyes flickered over to Toby, who stood a few feet away from the situation all tensed up. Bagwell stood and followed as Tweener fled into the building, goading him. Taunting him. "Better sleep with one eye open, girly."

"Bring it on, bitch." The kid kept digging his hole deeper and deeper.

"Oh, I'm gonna...I gonna bring it on in spades." T-Bag bit his lip, his hands tapping at his thighs.

"Maybe you should just leave that kid alone..." Toby caught up with T-Bag. The older man stopped, turning to face Toby.

"Maybe you are in no position to be telling me my business, hmm?" T-Bag stepped to Toby's face. "Gettin' jealous of the attention I'm giving Tweener? You don't need to worry your pretty little head none; there is plenty of me to go around." He patted Toby's hip, chuckling as the young man flinched away from him.

Tweener had a cell all to himself, for the day before he arrived, its occupant was shanked and bled out. Bellick place David in there for the bitch bidding process. That night, Toby watched as the kid cried into his pillow, clutched tightly to his chest. T-Bag tangled in the bars of his cell door, he sang to the boy. He promised Tweener that he was coming for him. Toby found himself being drawn back to his first few days in Fox River. The fear that took over and the things T-Bag had called to him in the night air.


	24. Chapter 24

That creepy pedophile continued his jeering the next day. He followed Tweener through the meal lines, like he had Toby. T-Bag messed with him in the block and in the yard. He even went so far as to tug the kids loose pants to his ankles; his buddies laughing and playing along. It was a sinister cycle and poor David had no rest. No time off, away from Bagwell. Toby watched in growing frustration, which soon broke into anger.

T-Bag would be the death of Tweener. If Toby let him have his way, David would snuff out his own life like Cherry did. T-Bag did not deserve that kind of power over another person. If there were any balance to the world, T-Bag would have been the prison bitch. That's how things were done in other prisons. Pedophiles didn't last long elsewhere. It was truly a miracle that Bagwell had gained so much power in here.

"PI!" Bellick shouted from the center of the block, dragging Toby back from his thoughts. He tossed the sketchpad, laying open and blank on his lap, to the foot of his bunk. He slid to the ground to find that Charles had already left. The old man was sure quick on his feet for his age. Toby briskly stepped into line with the others. Charles still looked tired, withdrawn; he'd been that way since Marilyn was murdered. How he kept from ringing Bellick's neck, was a fete in its own.

T-Bag slithered up behind Toby, "My, my, Sunny, your time bunking with the old head has not done well for you. You're starting to go all dreamy eyed again." He circled the younger man. "Getting lax in keeping eye to your surroundings."

"What I do or do not do is none of your concern, T-Bag." Toby growled. Feeling the anger of the Tweener situation boil up again.

"There you go again, thinking that you don't belong to me." Bagwell hissed into Toby's ear. "I should brand you, like cattle. Give you a damn good reminder who owns you, Boy."  
T-Bag straightened again, smiling from ear to ear. He basked in the expression that fumbled over Toby's face, who quickly wiped it away. Toby thrust a blank face over the wave of fear, of anger and worry. He couldn't quite decide whether Bagwell would really do that to him. Even worse, he didn't know if he would be able to escape the man if he chose to follow through.

In the locker room, Toby changed in the far corner. From his position, no one could approach him without him seeing them first. Unfortunately, this also meant that Toby could also see the lusty stares he received from the distant T-Bag. The southerner, though pursuing Tweener and Toby, had not had any company other than his hand for quite some time in his book. This made him borderline bipolar. He'd no sooner be making some racist joke, then slicing you up with the razor hid under his tongue. Currently a big slimy smile painted the murderers face.

It stayed there the whole time they were being lead to the break room. "What are you grinning about?" Fernando pried.

"Oh, just the fact that I'm gonna be out in the real world here in a little bit...the fact that I am gonna get me finer piece a tail certainly don't hurt either." He winked at the hispanic, who rolled his eyes. "Nothing like tail, eh, Sunny?" The pedophile brushed against the smaller inmate, giggling like a hyena.

Toby released a tense, measured breath as he stomped into the torched room. He started off the wall, but spun back to the tools. Toby snatched up a crowbar as Bagwell sauntered through the door. "Ya know, Sunny, I think you and I..." Before he could finish what was sure to be a sexual threat, Toby smashed the metal into the older man's knee. He fell to the floor, gripping his leg as Burrows shut the door behind them.

Scofield looked to Toby, eyes calculating everything that was going on. "You just screwed some major league pooch now, Boy. I'm gonna..."

Michael edged closer, "What are you going to do, T-Bag? You are out of moves. Sunny has already secured his ride out of here. You on the other hand, just keep..."

"That's where you are wrong, Pretty. I'm gonna sing like a tree full of birds now! And this, this ain't over, Sunny. BADGE!" The southerner roared, trying to prove to that know-it-all Scofield that he had some aces left. Abruzzi rushed forward but Michael pushed back, turning to face the crouching Bagwell.

"You want to sing, then sing. But you know what I think? You don't have the guts. You want out of here just as much as the rest of us." The door squeaked open, as a blonde officer stepped in. Toby jumped, spinning around. His eyes dashed from the guard to the grimacing T-Bag.

"There a problem here?" Officer Stolte grunted, already bored of the situation. Michael still faced the southerner, as if begging for him to squeal but knowing he never would.

"No, I, uh, thought we were missing some tools. My bad." T-Bag hobbled to his feet.

"Get back to work." Stotle growled before turning on his heel. Michael waited a few seconds, smirking at the pained Bagwell, before continuing.

"Now, you and I might be stuck in this little dance together but I call the shots. Sunny has earned my trust, therefore, whatever it is you did to piss him off," Scofield shook his head, turning to face Toby.

"Tweener," Toby growled, glaring at T-Bag with more hatred than he thought he had in him.

"First shot, that kid out there...you don't touch him. Ever. Do we understand each other?" Michael half whispered, standing over T-Bag. The rapist seemed to fight with himself, taking score of all the men around him that seemed to agree with Pretty.

He finally uttered a quiet, frustrated, "We do."

"Good." Toby barked, receiving a sinister look from the trapped southerner. No sooner said, another CO barged into the room. This time it was none other than Captain Bellick. He stopped in the middle of the room and Toby's heart shot into his throat. The pig was on the hole. He was standing there, standing while he should be falling. Toby's eyes flicked around and everyone else was having the same moment of terror.

"Abruzzi, you and I need to have a talk." Bellick smirked, assuming the fear he saw was for him. John squeezed between inmates and out the door, followed by Bellick, who

made a point to give Toby an icy glare.

"How come he didn't fall through?" Lincoln pulled the rug away. Underneath of which, sat the employee of the month board. Toby burst into a fit of laughter. Bellick had been standing on his own face, giving all them that better-than-thou look. It was hysterical. Michael looked over his shoulder at Sucre, who merely winked. Toby wanted to hug the guy for thinking of that. He had saved all their asses.

Come yard time, T-Bag was limping really bad. It reminded Toby of what he'd imagine a pirate with a peg-leg would walk like. He sat on the bleachers, trying his best to hold a conversation with Tweener. They'd been shooting hoops, but were thrown out by a group that wanted the courts. Of course, David thought they could have taken them all down.

T-Bag hobbled his way across the yard, pausing when he neared the boys. Tweener's lips trembled slightly before he could put on his game face. "You trippin' on somethin'...A-Alice?" T-Bag cocked his head to the side, Toby wanted to choke the kid for egging Bagwell on. The rapist locked eyes with Scofield from across the yard, his jaw twitching with frustration. After a second, he began to limp again, continuing on passed the two. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Lamp it up in here again, I'll be fitting to break some shop!" Tweener called after the predator.

Toby smirked, enjoying his little victory. That was until he noticed a group of convicts in blue jumpsuits heading for the break room. He jumped to his feet and over to the fence where he was joined by some of the others. "Hey, Boss, what's happening? What they doing?" Abruzzi called out.

"Fixing the break room." Bellick sneered, never breaking stride.

"What are you talking about? That's PI. I run it!" The mob boss replied.

"Not anymore you don't..." The pig smirked, turning away. Abruzzi smacked the fence.

"What's he mean you don't run it?" Toby faced the angry Italian.

"Don't worry about it fish. I'll handle this." He smacked at the fence again; rushing off to another part of the yard. Toby stood there, watching as the new crew carried things in and out. Some of those things looked pretty heavy. Make one of those guys weigh enough and they would bust through the wood covering the hole. Make the board hold long enough and they would be replacing the flooring; still finding the hole. Toby felt sick to his stomach, he rested his forehead against the cool metal.


	25. Chapter 25

**AN: It's going to get a little dark here. Haha, as if Toby's life weren't rough enough XD Anyway, warnings for the graphic nature of this chapter.**

**AN: Oh and thank you everybody, again, who has followed and favorited and commented. I love you guys so hardcore :D**

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"Locke, you got a visitor." Toby couldn't comprehend who would come to see him. But as he was led into the visitation room; there sat his estranged father. The old man wrung his hands nervously. He didn't rise to greet his son. He didn't smile. He did not even give him the time of day; he just nodded, waiting for Toby to sit down.

A few tables away Toby noticed Michael and the mob boss talking to some slick in a suit. Things didn't look to be going so good. "You never cease to disappoint me, Tobias." Toby returned his gaze to his angry father.

"Tell me, dad, have you ever tried to see things my way?" Toby leaned onto the table. "As a kid you dashed all my hopes and dreams. As I grew to a man, you rode me hard about my schooling, my work. You kicked me onto the streets when I was sixteen, Dad. Sixteen...we haven't spoken in almost nine years. So, why are you here?" Toby hissed.

"First of all, you wanted to be a doctor. There was no use putting hope for that in a boy like you. You are small and weak in both mind and body. There was no way you could accomplish anything. When you got that teen whore pregnant, it was the last straw. I could no longer allow your insolence to plague our family, Tobias. And now, you are a murderer. This is a whole new low for even you." His father's hands shook with anger.

"Her name was Janice and she was not a whore!" Toby growled, gripping the table. "And you didn't answer my question, why are you here?" The old man leaned onto his elbows.

"The stress of dealing with you being sent in here," he gestured around. "It caused your poor mother to have an aneurysm. I came to let you know that you have killed another innocent person. Congratulations, son." Toby was shocked. His father blamed him for his mother passing away.

"When?" Toby all but whispered.

"Two weeks ago. I would have come sooner but I had funeral arrangements, grieving family and such." His father shrugged. Toby couldn't even say goodbye to his mother. She was already gone, buried. He wasn't even notified of the funeral. Toby felt cold on the inside.

"You didn't even let me come to the funeral..." Toby was shocked.

"And let you endanger all those people? No." His father snapped.

"I am not a psycho killer! I made a mistake. I hadn't even meant to hurt that guy!" He put his face in his hands. When he looked up, he saw a distraught Michael shuffling away from the table. Abruzzi pulled the suited man into a hug before, also, heading towards the cell block. Toby drew his attention back to the man in front of him as he began to rise.

"Good bye, Tobias and may God have mercy on your black soul."

"Yeah, okay Dad." Toby stood and stormed out of the visitation room. His anger faded into hurt and mourning. He couldn't believe she was gone. When he was growing up, she was always the ying to Dad's yang. She would cuddle him and Kathy, telling them fantastic stories. She urged them to be everything they could. Their father would tear those fantasies down around them. He would beat them into the molds he wanted them to fill. Kathy was always better at fitting the description than Toby.

He wiped at his eyes, refusing to let the tears fall. Not in here. There would be time to mourn her when he was a free man. Toby drew a deep shaky breath, turning a corner. He had barely noted the second set of footsteps when Toby was rushed by a giant muscle tatted with a black swastika. Toby crashed against a wall as the door to his left was wretched open and he was thrown inside. It was a janitor's closet, dark as night. Toby landed roughly on the floor. He tensed, trying to sense if there was anyone else in the small room. Toby felt along the floor, aiming for a wall; instead, he found a pair of coarse pant legs.

Toby froze, pulling hands back and jumping to his feet. The light flicked on, momentarily blinding Toby. He threw his hands up to block out the painful brilliance. A fist broke through the haze and smashed against the young man's cheek. Toby stumbled back, landing against the door. "You have been quite troublesome lately, Sunny." T-Bag limped forward, placing a hand on the door above Toby's head. The boy's hands immediately sought the doorknob, only to find it refusing to turn. He was locked in with a very angry Bagwell.

"Busting my knee with that crowbar...you must have a deathwish, boy. The funny part is that you used that bit to protect little Tweener from me...but you forgot yourself." He chuckled, his voice deep and evil. Toby pressed himself flat against the door, his heart pounding at his chest. "Little tip: you should always look out for number one."

Toby took in a breath to scream for help. They were off a hallway, there had to be somebody out there. Some one would hear. But as Toby released his shout, Bagwell brought up his other hand; placing a sinister shank to the corner of the smaller man's mouth. "You don't want to be doing that, Sunny." The boy froze, his mouth still agape with the blade lingering at the side. "Take off your shirt." T-Bag took a step back, holding the crude tool in the space between them.

Toby fumbled with the buttons on his over-shirt, his fingers stupid with fear. It seemed to take forever and yet it was all too soon that he stood bare chested before the rapist. T-Bag's tongue slid across his lip. His eyes fiery with anger and lust. He gestured with the blade at Toby's pants. "Off, boy." Toby shook his head, his voice lost somewhere in his stomach. Before he could blink, T-Bag lashed out. The blade tore through Toby's flesh. splitting a gash open on his chest. "Pants! Now!"

Toby cried out, clutching at the wound as blood began to leak down his stomach. He crouched, blinking back tears. The zipper of his pants caught midway down, he clawed at it but it would not budge. T-Bag yanked him to his feet, tired of waiting for the runt; he slashed the sides of the trousers with the shank. They fell from Toby's shaking hips, his fingers trembling. Toby tried to cover himself, his hands rested above his boxer covered bits. T-Bag chuckled in his chest as he shoved Toby to the ground. Toby kicked and thrashed; his wild movement were only met with pain as T-Bag carved the kid up.

He lay cuts upon every inch of flesh he reached. Toby was covered in blood and wracked with pain. He cried out till he was hoarse but no one came. T-Bag gagged him with his shirt, tying it behind his head. Toby grew quiet, whimpering slightly as the dagger dragged across his thigh. Bagwell had yet to remove the underwear, but Toby knew that he would not be finished until he had taken everything the boy had.

Bagwell pulled him onto his back, admiring his handy work. Sunny was covered from shoulder to ankle in small cuts. Save for the ones along his inner thigh. They read TB forever branding Toby as Theodore's. Bagwell had not marred the boy's face, for it looked so pretty when he was scared. How could T-Bag mark a face like that? Plus, he didn't want the badges to ask too many questions. He doubted, correctly, that Toby would report the rape. The bitch had learned not the thrash under Bagwell. He would not rip himself open again. Finally, the pedophile leaned over the boy, staring down into his terrified green eyes.

"It has been far too long since I had a piece of you, Sunny." Without looking away, T-Bag gripped the boy's hip hard enough to bruise before pulling the flimsy cloth from his body. "Now, normally you'd be on your stomach...but I want you to see everything, feel everything." Toby turned his head away, feeling sick to his stomach with fear and pain and the stench of T-Bag's breath. "Look. At. Me. Boy." The southerner growled exchanging hip for jaw beneath his fingers.

Toby shuddered as T-Bag's body lowered to rest against his. Hip to hip, thigh to thigh; T-Bag still gripped the boy's face as he waited. Toby sucked in a harsh breath squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before finally daring to look into the lustful one's above him. They were maniacal with rage and sexual desire, a sick lopsided smile spreading across T-Bag's thin face. He enjoyed watching Toby realize he had nowhere to go. That he was trapped and would be so until he did what Bagwell wanted.

"Good boy, Sunny." The rapist patted his pet.

"Fuck you, T-Bag." Toby spat almost too quiet to hear through the shirt, but the man had heard and he would fuck the attitude out of the boy. Bagwell nudged the boy's legs apart and shoved himself inside. Sunny was so incredibly tight, he thought he would rip again. Toby screamed, seizing up around T-Bag. The rapist moaned, biting down on Toby's collarbone. After a few ragged breaths, he felt the boy relax again; though his hands still clawing at the cement and his face was still a pinched image of burning pain.

T-Bag pounded into the boy, enjoying the muffled cries and the slaps of flesh against flesh. He pulled Toby's leg up, allowing him to bury deeper into the smaller man. He licked at the blood that trailed down Toby's thigh. The young man twisted his head away, trying to block out the sounds and the pain. He didn't want to feel anymore. He just wanted to disappear. With all the blood drying on his body, Toby was surprised he was still conscious. His muscles ached, as every motion his body made opened the wounds again. It burned so badly as the sweat from both bodies rubbing into them; especially the deep ones on his inner thigh.

T-Bag leaned forward, pulling the leg with him; he thrust as violently as he could into the quaking boy. He whispered threats, promises. He taunted Toby in every way he could come up with. As T-Bag felt the familiar tightening in his stomach he bit down on Toby's chest; causing the boy to utter a painful moan. Bagwell emptied into his prag, smothering his own moan into Toby's body. He thrust a few more times, for good measure, before pulling out and smoothing back his sweaty hair. T-Bag sat back on his heels, feeling happily accomplished.

Toby rolled onto his side, facing away from the smirking rapist. It had happened again. He thought he was away from all this. He had thought it would be too much effort to come after him now, but he was wrong. Toby feared he would never be away from Bagwell. He was like a disease that kept flaring up right when you thought you were rid of him. Toby curled into a ball, ignoring how his wounds protested on both sides of his body. The boy choked down tears, refusing to let Bagwell make him cry. With a soft caress of his back and hip, the pedophile chortled and left the room. Leaving the key in the door for Toby.


	26. Chapter 26

Toby groaned under his protesting body, forcing himself to pull his clothes back on. His shirts had stains and his pants refused to stay up without him holding onto to them, but he felt better with his weakness hidden from sight. Toby limped to his cell to change. The brand aching most deeply and complaining every time cloth or skin touched it. Even when nothing touched it; it ached when ever Toby moved, like it wanted to remind him of everything he was in here. By the time he had actually made it out to the yard, his time outside was nearly over.

Toby avoided looking in the direction of Bagwell, whom he was sure noticed his entrance to the land of dead grass. Instead, Toby headed over to Michael. He and Westmoreland were in the middle of a game of checkers like none had seen before. They were equally matched. Michael's intelligence and cunning, versus Charles' wisdom and experience. Toby was sucked into the game, trying to figure out the moves before they were made. Each time, he found that his path would have actually led to defeat. He had never been all that good at these games anyway. Charles had always taken it easy on him.

Being so focused on the match kept Toby from thinking about T-Bag and everything he brought with him. If Toby could have stayed so completely zoned in, he would have, but a gruff clearing of one's throat from over his shoulder drew him back to reality. There stood C-note, all confident and mischievous. "Take a walk, old head." He easily slid into the place Westmoreland vacated. Bits and pieces of concrete poured from the man's hand, piling on the surface of the checker game. "Now we got a hell of a lot to talk about, don't we?" C-note smiled.

Toby whipped his head around, hoping no one saw the rubble. His hand brushed the pile into the grass, as he returned his gaze to the two in front of him in some sort of stand off. "I've got nothing to say." Scofield smirked.

"You think you can play me, Snowflake. 'Cause you got college? Big school learnin' huh..but lemme school you. Darwin wins inside these walls, not Einstein. Darwin." He looked as though he wanted to say more but was cut off by a guard calling for the inmates to line up to head inside. Michael and C-note already stood, heading away. "I'm not done with you, fish."

"You never even got started." Michael retorted, leaving Toby at the table. He took his time lifting himself off the stool, carefully stretching his body. The wounds strained against the motion, threatening to break open again. With a huff of frustration, Toby began his slow trek indoors. He babied his branded leg, giving him an awkward limp. He had almost made it to the cell block when he felt someone slide up behind him. T-Bag didn't have to say anything, he saw Toby tense up as he approached. He ignored T-Bag's presence in all other ways, though. He just refused to break, to cow down and become the obedient plaything that all the others had. Bagwell had to smack him around just to get the boy to hold his pocket each day. With all the time and effort he was putting into Toby, the kid was by far the most entertaining bitch. And he would be worth it all in the end.

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Toby tore at the roasted drywall like it had insulted his mother. He threw everything he had into it. All his pain, his frustration, his hate for T-Bag; he bundled it all into the physical exertion. He imagined that the wall that fell apart at his hands was Bagwell. He saw himself tearing into the bastard, torturing him, making him feel every bit of pain and shame that Toby had had to feel. He felt eyes from the other men in the room flick over him, each in their own time silently pleading with Toby to keep his cool.

Bagwell was on the door again, keeping him away from Toby. The group had been trying to keep the two from contact; though, it was impossible to make T-Bag quit jeering. He just kept at Toby, everyday like some messed up clockwork. There were looks. There were the sexual innuendos, the jokes, and blatant advances. Sometimes Bagwell would go so far as to touch Toby, if he didn't get a rise from his more subtle instigations. Toby would never go off. Even when the pervert would grab him; Toby would stiffen and shake with anger. He had a storm brewing in him that could destroy the whole plan, the whole escape, if he wasn't watched.

Michael had seen many ways that guys reacted to being punked out. Some would accept it, try to enjoy it, like Maytag had. Others would become self absorbed and depressed, like the young Cherry. Many would die at the hands of their master, or his crew, but Michael had never seen any of them react like Toby. He internalized all his fear and pain. Toby was like a bottle of soda shaken one too many times. Scofield could see that the cap was fit to burst off at any moment. When it did, it would take them all down with it because Toby would only see his rage and his target.

The easiest time for T-Bag to taunt the boy was during PI, which meant the most likely time for Toby to blow would be with the hole there for the pigs to find. And they would find it; if Toby attacked Bagwell in that breakroom, there would be no time to hide what was going on. The guards would be in there in a heartbeat and everything would over. Lincoln would die. Michael would spend his full sentence and then some. Abruzzi would lose his power, never getting Fibonacci, and never see his family again. Fernando would never reach Maricruz. Toby would lose his daughter and probably be thrown in the SHU for the rest of his time, never seeing another soul except the occasional guard. Bagwell would probably die, or at the very least, be sent to the hospital.

"We are through the hard part." Scofield climbed out of the hole, dragging everyone out of their thoughts. "Another eighteen inches, we'll hit that pipe. We will be gone by Friday..." He smirked as the men leaned in closer.

"Friday?" Sucre asked as a smile broke across his face.

"Better start making travel arrangements."

"Maricruz, here I come." Fernando snapped his fingers in excitement. Abruzzi shared his sentiments, overjoyed to be able to see his wife and kids again.

"What about us Michael? Where are we going?" Lincoln crouched.

"Panama." Scofield whispered the word as though it were magic.

"Panama?"

"No roads, no electricity...no cops." Michael grabbed a hammer. "Nothing but white sand beaches and ice cold beer."

"Well that's nice, but what about our lives?" They stood over the hole; Lincoln looked to Michael but the little brother was only seeing the pathway out of here.

"We'll open a scuba shop." He muttered wistfully.

"Hey..I don't dive." Lincoln shook his head.

"Neither do I, but we'll have plenty of time to learn." Toby eavesdropped from his position near the wall. Panama sounded beautiful, calm. He could see Anna and he making sandcastles on a beach somewhere like that.

Suddenly there was a knock of the clipboard on the metal door. "Bulls." The southerner warned.

They rushed to recover the hole, barely dropping the rug into place when Bellick strolled into the room followed by none other than C-Note. T-Bag leaned against the wall, watching the scene unfold. Catching Toby's eye, he trailed his tongue along his upper lip. His free hand adjusting his trousers over his bulge. Toby recoiled in disgust. His face pinching in anger and in shame, he turned to face Captain Bellick directly. Bagwell smirked at him in his peripheral vision, but Toby ignored him.

"This con says he is on a job in here." Bellick stood to the side, letting C-Note into the room.

"No, I don't think so." Abruzzi slurred, his italian accent running the words together.

"You heard the Paison, move your ass!" Bellick turned to shove the inmate out the door, but C-Note spun away from him.

"Whoa, CO, hold on one second." Benjamin strutted to the middle of the room, standing atop of the board. "You sure about that? You sure you can't use the extra hand?" He tapped his sneaker lightly. Scofield ran his hands along his scalp, frustrated.

"You know anything about construction?" Abruzzi feigned the impromptu job interview.

"Concrete is my specialty, can you dig it?" The intruder winked. Toby nearly scoffed at how blatant the guy was. With any brains, Bellick could have connected the dots right there. But they were lucky; the CO had other things on his mind, like the fact that Tweener's bets were coming in hand fulls now that T-Bag was not interested. Michael nodded begrudgedly toward Abruzzi.

"Okay, Boss, sign him up." Toby was impressed at how the mob boss could seem enthused by this.

"You got it." Bellick spun around, nearly knocking into T-Bag, who was looking a might flustered as well. The racist was certainly not liking the new addition, which brought a small bit of pleasure for Toby.

"Well, looks like Darwin wins after all, eh, Fish?" C-note patted himself on the back. Toby chucked his tools into the wheelbarrow. Dusting off his hands, he leveled a cool glare aimed straight to the ground as he headed out of the break room. PI was over for the day and he did not want to spend another second in there with Bagwell eyeing him.

Toby pulled the top part of his jumper down around his waist, allowing the cool wind to hit the flesh of his arms and push at his t-shirt. The most of the scabs had turned to pink scars. They would go away with time, but Toby felt squished under their weight. Like Scofield's tattoos, they covered everything he saw in the mirror each morning. Toby only felt like himself when they were out of sight. The little marks fueled an anger in Toby that scared him. It was like an animal trapped inside his body, fighting to be set free. He didn't want to be that guy; the one who goes into the animal factory human and comes out a monster.

He let himself fall softly down to sit on the grass. Toby pulled it through his fingers, it tickled. The feeling reminded him of times when he would pick Anna up and spin around with her flying above his head. Her beautiful hair would hang down into his face, tickling his cheeks as the grass did his fingertips. Thoughts of her...that's what quelled the monster in him. His little angel. She could protect him from such a long distance away, and she did not even know she had that kind of power in her. Toby smiled, thinking of how she would react to knowing that she was his everything, even in here.

"Get your ass over here, Locke." CO Stolte called from the sidewalk. The other inmates had already lined up.

"Yeah, sure thing, Boss." Toby rolled to his feet, losing his pep as he realized he would be standing behind Bagwell on the way inside. 'Just a few more days,' Toby reminded himself. 'just till Friday.'


	27. Chapter 27

**AN: This chapter is for Eva, for constantly reviewing and telling me how awesome I am xD lol I think you'll like the bit about your favorite character (may he RIP)**

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The cafeteria was louder than ever, the inmates were excited about one thing or another. Toby couldn't care less. He hadn't gotten much sleep the previous night and the breakfast buzzer came too soon. Toby had to fight himself to get out of bed for count and had almost fallen back asleep when a CO pulled him from the cell. Breakfast was not an option, no meal was. You eat when you are told to eat. Sleep when you were told. Shower during allotted shower times. Every minute was controlled; and yet, within the order, chaos ensued.

Bagwell was chaos. He found a way to come after Toby, even with the guards and the schedules. He somehow knew when to strike. Toby had tried to be even more careful, but T-Bag appeared every time he had a vulnerable moment. A moment. It was as if there was a beacon attached to his emotions, that called on the pedophile when he was lost in thought.

As though to prove the point made in Toby's head, Bagwell slithered into line next to Toby. "Mornin' Sunny. Had a long night did ya?" The bags under Toby's eyes answered for him. Bagwell trailed his eyes across the scars fading ever so slowly on Toby's bare arms. The younger man shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

"Go away, T-Bag. I don't want to deal with you right now." Toby almost pleaded, his need for sleep cracking in his voice. He pulled at the sleeve of his t-shirt, wishing he could cover himself. Those eyes made his skin crawl and his scars burn. It felt like wherever his eyes wandered, the old wounds burned with renewed vigor. Toby knew it was ridiculous but he couldn't seem to block out the heat of T-Bag's stares or the pain that they caused.

Toby surged away from the southerner as soon as he collected his food. He made a beeline for an empty table near the barred windows. The morning sun tinted his table red and made his food look even more like murder on a plate. So, Toby pushed the plastic tray away from him, choosing instead to munch on the burnt toast and sip on the watery milk. He could hear Bagwell's cackle from a few tables away. At least the pervert was preoccupied with something other than Toby for the time being.

He made short work of the bread and milk, rising from his seat. He dumped his tray into the trash bin and set it aside on a metal table. He turned to head back to his cell not looking where he was going; Toby bumped into the gelatinous mass that was Avocado.

"Excuse you, Bitch." He glared down as Toby's sleepless glassy eyes. "I think you owe me an apology." Avocado smirked, setting a hand on the boy's bicep.

"I don't owe you shit, Avocado." Toby shrugged his meaty hand off, stepping around his sweaty frame.

"The fuck did you say to me?!" Avocado grabbed Toby's arm harshly, twisting him back around. "You have three seconds to get on your knees and beg me to not kill you."

"Fuck you!" Toby pulled out of his grip, turning to leave again.

"Wrong, fish." The fat inmate spat, launching himself at the young man. They fell onto a tabletop, Toby's back pinned painfully on the edge. The table dug into his spine as Avocado's weight crushed him. A crowd formed almost immediately, shouting and egging on the conflict. Toby swung at the aggressor, landing a good hit to his jaw. It was enough to open up some room. He slid off the table, steadying himself on his feet. Avocado had strength over him, but Toby had speed.

He danced around, dodging what he could. The blob, frustrated with the little fairy, threw punches wildly. He wasn't aiming at all, he just hit at whatever he could. Laying a fury of blows to Toby's sides and head. The younger man jabbed out, striking the other's gut; but in doing so, he moved too close in. Avocado a fist full of Toby's hair, he pulled hard and Toby's face slammed against the table.

Toby's mouth flooded with blood that leaked down from his nose. Both in and on his face, the crimson liquid spilled in torrents. Guards finally broke through the crowd tackling the two inmates to the ground. Avocado smirked at Toby, promising that he would get even. He blamed Toby; said it was his fault that Avocado was sent to the SHU for the next few days.

"I will take my revenge on your ass, Kid. You fucking fag, you are gonna pay!" He roared as he was dragged away. Toby was taken to the infirmary for his face. His nose was cut and broken, which caused all the blood. Toby sat once again on the examination table, holding an ice pack to his face for, what seemed like, the past hour. The doctor had a lot of patients waiting, like Scofield who was in for his diabetes shot. Toby was beginning to doubt that the guy even had diabetes. Everything Michael did was somehow related to the escape plan, so Toby wouldn't put it past him to have made up an illness to be allowed in here on a daily basis.

"Good morning, Mr. Locke." The doctor entered, absentmindedly greeting Toby while she studied a file in her hands.

"Likewise, Dr. Tancredi." Toby's voice was muffled and nasally. He sounded like he had a head cold, the way he pronounced her name. He started to shift restlessly, waiting for her to finish reading whatever was on the page.

"Would you like to tell me what happened today?" She finally looked up.

"I slipped in the cafeteria. Hit my face on one of the tables." Toby shrugged.

"...yeah, you have accidents a lot." She almost smiled, pulling on a pair gloves. She rolled her stool over to sit in front of him, studying his nose. "Did your cellmate give you those?" Tancredi gestured to the scarred cuts on his arms.

"No, Westmoreland is a good man." Toby laughed at the thought of Charles getting violent.

"Aw, so they did transfer you back. That's good to hear." She nodded, cleaning the cut on his face with a Q-tip.

"...you knew...about Bagwell?" Toby swallowed hard. Blinking at the alcoholic fumes getting into his eyes.

"No, not at first. I didn't know until," She was startled when Toby cut her off. His face flushed with anger and embarrassment.

"Who told you?!" He squeaked.

"Um, I believe you guys called him Cherry." She paused, seeing the slack jawed astonishment spread across Toby's face. "He was worried about you. You guys must have been friends. That's hard to find in here." She stopped cleaning his nose to look into his eyes. She wanted Toby to know that he wasn't alone in here, that there were people who cared about what happened.

Toby couldn't respond. He and Seth barely spoke. Hell, they hardly had time away from their personal predators enough to talk to anyone. Seth must have said something to the doc after they saw each other in the showers. Knowing this only made Toby feel worse about not being able to save the kid from his short drop. Maybe that was his last good deed to convince the man at the Pearly Gates to let him in. Save Toby.

All he could see was the cold, distant look in Seth's eyes. His eyes were so glassy and lifeless, as his body lay on the concrete floor of the block. Toby hadn't been able to accept that Seth was really gone; he kept thinking that the boy's chest would suddenly rise with renewed breath. It never did. Instead, he just looked off into the distance with his neck unnaturally long embellished with a burn from the sheets rubbing against his skin. Dead.

He'd watched that boy die. Toby's heart felt like a heavy stone in his ribs. Seth had gone out of his way to help Toby. Nobody helps other people in here, but Seth had gotten Toby away from Bagwell. Well, not entirely, but he had made an effort many would have found too risky. Had he not taken his own life, Cherry probably would have been killed for talking to the doctor. Toby's life was indebted to a man he could never repay.

"Mr. Locke? Mr. Locke...Tobias! Are you with me?" The doctor snapped her fingers in front of Toby's face. He blinked away his troubling thoughts. He locked away Seth for another time.

"Sorry, Dr. Tancredi. I just..." Toby tried to speak what he was thinking but couldn't organize his mind. It was just a large jumble of incoherent images and feelings. He cleared his throat. "Is my face alright?"

"Yes," She looked worriedly at him, confused by his change of topic. "You broke your nose 'slipping' and bruised a few vertebrae in your lower back. Nothing major. You may return to gen. pop. now." She wheeled her chair back over to his documents, marking this and checking that. After a while of awkward silence, a guard knocked on the door. Unfortunately for Toby, the CO happened to be Bellick. He locked Toby's wrists together in front of him, dragging the young man by his arm. Bellick's meaty fingers dug painfully into the flesh of his bicep, enough to make Toby wince. The guard smirked, noticing but not acknowledging the convict's discomfort.

"Nice face, Sunshine." Bellick chuckled. "You just keep making friends don't ya."


	28. Chapter 28

**AN: Oh, um, I don't own Prison Break. As if that wasn't obvious. How many of these things do you think I have to put on my story's chapters? It's not like plagiarizers won't just cut the disclaimer out anyway...oh well lol.**

**AN: Sorry for the chapter mix up thing. I had to reorganize the latest few because fanfic (or I) neglected a chapter, skipping a chunk of story on accident. Sorry for that. I know it must have been confusing to see 'new chapters' only to find that you have already read...what? A third of them? I think I goofed three. I don't remember, lol. Anyway, it's fixed and we are back on track. :) Enjoy the chapter, dude(t)s.**

* * *

Toby felt T-Bag appear at his cell door more than he heard him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention, alerting their owner of the danger. Toby sat, rigid, in the chair by the table in the back of his cell writing another letter to his little girl. Anna had not written back to the first one, but Toby attributed that to the fact that she was a little girl. Little girls could be forgetful when there were other, more immediate things to attend to, like school or playing with friends. His letter could slip her mind.

"Feel like taking a shower, Sunny? You are looking a might grungy these days." T-Bag's intentions were crystal clear and they had nothing to do with cleanliness. Toby did feel disgusting nonetheless. He had been avoiding the showers now that he was no longer on Bagwell's pocket. He was open for attacks from anybody and judging by the lack of back up Toby experienced earlier that day, he was no longer under protection.

"Go away, Bagwell." Toby stared at the wall before him.

"Things like what happened in the cafeteria could happen a lot more frequently and a lot more painfully if you keep up with this thing of yours, boy." The southerner sneered.

"Thing of mine?!" Toby spun around on the chair. "You mean, not being raped daily. Not being beaten and forced to do things for you...to you." Toby hadn't meant to say all that but the words fell from his mouth before he could stop them.

"You have got a mouth on you, Sunny, and it is running you into some dangerous territory." He took a step inside the cell. "I could take what I want from you without the obligation of protecting you. Hell, I have been, but it is much easier if we come to an agreement. Like before, you do as I say and you are protected from all the other inmates in here." He twisted a corner of pocket between his fingers. "The option is open for whenever you realize you need a little companionship..." T-Bag smirked, backing out of the cell. He didn't miss a single expression the tumbled across Toby's face. The main one being fear. Toby feared that Bagwell was right, that he would find independence to be just as bad. Worse, even, adding in that he would still get raped by Bagwell. With their 'agreement' officially ended, it wouldn't be long for other predators to come after him.

Toby had already had a run in with the disgusting pig Avocado. That monster wouldn't call the broken nose even. No, he would want a sexual favor as an apology for whatever it was that Toby did to piss him off. Toby snagged his hands in his hair, doubling over his knees in the chair. He felt like the walls were so close, like the floor was too far away. He started breathing erratically, his mind swimming with violent thoughts. He envisioned pain and rape. He saw his past experiences melting with new faces, faces that would have no qualms with killing Toby. They could get what they wanted just as easily from a corpse as a cooperative body. They didn't need Toby alive. Play their cards right and they could get away with the murder. Toby shut his eyes tightly, his world spinning on its axis. He felt like his heart of going to explode as it pounding relentlessly against his ribs. His body felt so light, suddenly. He snapped open his eyes as his world swirled and faded to black.

Next thing Toby knew, Charles was sitting over him. Kneeling on the floor, he shook Toby until he groaned and cracked open one eye. "You okay, son? I came in here to find you out on the floor." Toby stretched his cramped muscles, which had been pulled tightly to his core. He groaned as he unfolded from the fetal position.

"I'm fine Charles, I don't know what happened. I just...I don't know, went out.. I guess." Toby scratched his head. He had never had a panic attack like that before. It was all consuming, it was dangerous in a place like this. He couldn't allow himself to have another episode like that. It could have been anybody who found him like that. He was lucky it had been Charles who had walked into their cell and not Bagwell.

"PI." Officer Geary called, waiting for the inmates to make their way down for the work detail. Toby pulled himself off the ground, smiling weakly at his cellmate.

"See ya around, Westmoreland." He shuffled through the door, waving over his shoulder to the worried old man.

* * *

Toby sanded the new walls of the break room, ignoring the leers he received from his least favorite coworker. Bagwell stood a few feet away attending to the same chore though he seemed to be paying more attention to the young man than the work. "Okay, let's rotate." Abruzzi ordered from his position atop the table against another wall. "Sergeant Sodomy, you're up next."

Bagwell pushed away from the drywall, looking a little annoyed by his new nickname. Toby wanted to smile, but had been on the receiving end of that problem a few times too many to enjoy the humor of it. T-Bag picked up a shovel, turning toward the hole as a waist deep C-Note held a hand out. The southerner stared at the request for assistance like it were a disease. "I don't know about ya'll but its getting a bit too dark in this room for me to dig." He finally helped the man out.

"You trying to say there is a hole in Fox River you don't want to get in?" C-Note sneered, jeering at the racist. Everyone shared looks and stifled smirks. Even Toby allowed a small smile to flicker on his face. "Yo, I got a question. How come Fusilli over here ain't grabbin' a shovel?"

"I'm making arrangements on the outside." The mob boss justified his laziness.

"Yeah, so what's that. Transpo, paper, what?"

"Exactly. Makes me management." Abruzzi looked down to the clipboard of papers in his hand.

"That makes us just labor, right?" C-Note crossed his arms over his chest.

"Mhmm, now you're getting it." Abruzzi smiled.

"You know, Management, better keep a close eye on the conditions up in here...or the labor might go on strike. Ya feel me?"

"Get back to work." The sentence barely hung in the air when Sucre burst through the door.

"CO coming." He quietly shut the metal behind him, hurrying to help cover the hole. In strolled a CO, looking around at the slow work being done to the room. He shook his head, knowing full well that the cons were making this go as slow as possible. Soaking up all the pennies and dimes they could.

"Scofield. Time for your conjugal. Your wife is here." Everyone looked to Michael. He had never spoken of a wife. The guy was quiet by nature, but not even Sucre seemed to know what was going on. You couldn't live with a guy day in and day out and not know he had a wife. It didn't make sense. Soon as Scofield was escorted out the door, the group broke into conversation. They all wanted to know about the guy's wife.

Sucre just shrugged, saying he had never said a word to him. Toby lost interest in the topic before the others, turning back to his work. Theodore Bagwell had known Toby in the most intimate way and even he did not know that the name he had mistakenly called out during his payment for his daughter's safety had indeed been his late wife. To T-Bag it was the name of some bitch, some whore on the old block. No one, not even Westmoreland knew about Toby's life before prison. Other than the picture of his daughter, Toby didn't let anything slip. He assumed Scofield must be the same way. What was his business, was his business and Toby respected that.

"We aren't going to get out of here by talking." Toby looked over his shoulder at the group still going on like high school girls.

"Ya know, Sunny does have a point there." T-Bag smiled deviously, letting his tongue wander his lip. Toby hated the looks Bagwell gave him. Never could they just be boredom, or approval, or whatever...no they were always awash with desire. Toby swore that the southerner could even blink sex. There was not one iota of normalcy in the fellow. He was a walking hound of hate and power.

"Right," Abruzzi took control of the situation. He gestured everyone back to the duties, himself included. He helped uncover the hole, but then sat down on the edge of the table once again. It bothered Toby that he did nothing to help out, but he knew where he stood on the totem pole. His opinion on work ethic didn't mean shit and pissing off the guys getting him out of here would be among the worst ideas Toby'd ever had.

After what felt like hours of awkward quiet accompanied with the scrapes of sandpaper and the clang's of the digging, Toby was startled when a voice broke the vacuum of sound. "Swing low, sweet chariot..coming for to carry me home. Swing, low..." Bagwell belted out a song that Toby feared would start a fight. "You know this one don'cha." He smirked up at the annoyed C-Note. "Come on give me something!" He continued the chorus, as Franklin snatched up a bucket of rubble to dump behind the new drywall being nailed into place. "And here, I thought you was a musical people."

"You know, your parents must be so proud of you, man. I mean, hitting the trailer park trifecta...racist, pedophile, and stupid." He turned back to his work, missing the flickers of emotion that Toby had become so attuned to. That was the gears of murder turning in Bagwell's head. Those flashes of fire in the rapist's eyes were same ones Toby saw before and during some of the most brutal beatings he had ever taken.

"It vexes me that I am made out to be the bad guy in the room. It's not like ya'll are incarcerated for stealing girl scout cookies." T-Bag jumped to seat himself on the ring of concrete bordering the hole.

"None of us murdered any girl scouts in the process." Abruzzi chimed in. Sucre slid into the room again, catching everyone's attention. Toby tensed, prepared to launch into action if they needed to cover the hole.

"Michael's coming back from the Bone Yard." Sucre grinned. Again the group turned to school girls, all excited to hear what Scofield would say. Toby bet they hoped to get a story with all the kinky details intact. As soon as the man walked through the door, Sucre was upon him. "I tell you everything about me and Maricruz and you can't even tell me you're married?" He was hurt that for all his honesty and their apparent friendship that there were big secrets between them.

"Later." Michael shut down the hispanic man before he could get riled up.

"Rough day, eh, Scofield? While the rest of us are in here slinging concrete, you got some little girly to play on your rusty trombone, uh?" C-Note complaining picking up another heavy bucket.

"I'm inclined to agree with the man." Bagwell said from his spot next to the hole. "Just doesn't seem equitable like, you know what I'm sayin'?"

"Shut up and dig T-Bag. You've no room to talk when you keep putting one of the team out of commission." Lincoln gestured to Toby, never taking his glare off of the man in front of him.

"I think what the idiots inside here want to know is, while we are digging in this hole...what is it you are doing?" Abruzzi approached the tattooed mastermind.

"I'm going shopping." Michael smirked, looking around at all the men. Cryptic as usual; Toby turned back to his work. Embarrassed by how he was referenced in the conversation and already knowing that they would get no more information out of Scofield, the young man cracked his neck and grabbed a bucket of concrete to dump behind his wall.


	29. Chapter 29

Toby and Westmoreland were walking the yard the next day. Charles was going on about some cop that used to give him hell when he was a kid. It was a funny story that had Toby stopping to catch his breathe every so ofter. It had been a long time since he had felt so jovial. Charles was the best at picking his spirits back up again. He always had an anecdote or two that brought a smile to Toby's lips.

They'd just settled into a comfortable silence, each thinking about the stupid things they had done when they were younger. Toby remembered one time when he was in high school, he had a problem with a teacher so he decided to skip school. It was the day before his birthday, which happened to be on a weekend that year, and he felt he deserved the day off. So he snuck out the side entrance during a passing period, avoiding the obviously placed cameras. It was winter so the pond near his school was frozen over.

Toby slipped and slid all over the ice, pretending with a stick that he was a famous hockey player. He'd portray the voice of the commentator as he raced from one end of the pond to the other. 'He shoots, he scores! And the crowd goes wild for number 96, Tobias Locke!'

It was all fun and games till he stumbled upon a thin spot near the beach. He fell through, shrieking like a girl at the freezing water rushing into his shoes and soaking his clothes. He shivered so hard, he swore up and down he was going to die. It took him an hour the walk home in the snow. He was blue and his fingertips frostbitten by the time he got there. His father had been at work, but his mother had just gotten off the phone with the school. She was pissed at him for ditching and worried about how cold he was. Toby was grounded for months and his father gave him forty whips with his leather belt. He'd never skipped school after that.

Michael Scofield drew Toby back to reality, approaching from the side and looking a little drawn and worried. "You ever hear of anything being stolen from R and D?"

"Course," Westmoreland squinted into the sun. "Bulls steal from personals all the time. The only problem is that by the time you notice, you are on the outside of the walls and there is nothing you can do about it then."

"What if you knew now?" Michael frowned.

"Look, I told you, leave me out of whatever it is you have going." Charles sighed.

"I just need to know if you've seen a guard with a gold watch." Michael continued.

"There's a lot of people that can get you a gold watch in here. Let it be." The old man reasoned.

"Yeah, but I need this specific gold watch." Michael shook his head.

"Westmoreland, Pope wants to see you!" A CO shouted from the fenceline. "Let's go!"

"Look I haven't seen nothing, but there is this one CO...word is he is the worst thief in here. Roy Geary." He turned and left, following the CO out of the yard.

"Is the watch for Route 66?" Toby asked, watching the old man go. Michael eyed him for a minute before walking away. "Okay, sorry for wanting to know what's going on..." Toby muttered under his breath. After a while of roaming about, an idea struck Toby like a ton of bricks. It was risky but if the watch was important to Michael then it might just be worth it. He found the genius leaned against a section of fence talking with Fernando. Toby rushed over to the two, feeling on top of the world for coming up with this. "Hey I got an idea on how you can get that watch off of Geary." Toby waited to hear whether Michael was interested.

"Yeah? and how's that?" He sounded so cynical. Toby felt his bravado shrink a little.

"Well, um, Tweener? He made his trade as a snatch and grab, as he says." Toby chuckled. "He's a pickpocket, might be able to help you out."

"Good to know." Michael nodded, thinking about the consequences of trusting Tweener. After they were all lead back inside for some tier time, Michael showed up at Toby's door. "Care to make the introductions?" Toby smiled, hopping down from his bunk and tossed his book to the table.

When they arrived at Tweener's cell, he was midway through a verse of some rap he was writing. It didn't sound like it was going well, but Toby was no expert on the genre of music. He wasn't really one to judge creative outlets in prison. Toby cleared his throat, "David, you still want in on PI? 'Cause, um, this is Michael Scofield and he needs a favor." Michael gave Toby a sideways glance to which the smaller man only shrugged. He had to give the kid a reason to help.

"Does my momma got big breastesses?" Tweener scoffed.

"I wouldn't know." Michael replied absentmindedly.

"Hells yes she does, and hells yes I do." The kid broke into a smile. "What you need done my man?"

"Word is you made you trade as a snatch and grab."

"Das right." Tweener gloated.

"Look, I need a favor. Can you steal something back that was stolen from me?" Toby leaned against the bars, giving the guys more room to talk.

"What kind of something are we talkin' bout here?" David leaned in, interested.

"Just a watch." Scofield shrugged.

"Naw, there ain't no such thang as just a watch. Every design gots a different clasp, every clasp got a different swipe."

"It's Italian, a Remedi. Gold band, pearl face, all weather."

"What year?"

"2003."

"That's a butterfly clasp on that bitch." The kid hissed.

"Which means what?" Michael worried.

"Hidden deployment. There ain't no way to snatch it without the mark feelin' it." He paused seeing the look of disappointment on Scofield's stoic face.

"Which just means I'ma have to get whimsical on this ficky." He bobbed his head, smirking. Tweener reached out for a knuckle pound, which Michael met awkwardly. "I get you this watch, that means I get in on some of that PI?"

"It means I'll think about it. No promises."

"Why you need this watch so bad anyway...?"

"Let's just say it means a lot to someone in my family." Michael gave Toby a knowing look as he turned to leave. Toby nodded to David before he too made his way down to his cell. The door slid shut behind him as he grabbed his book and hopped back up into his bunk, feeling a little more chipper having helped both the kid and the plan.


	30. Chapter 30

Toby plopped himself down on the steel chair next to Westmoreland, feeling groggy and irritable after tossing and turning all night. The usual worries kept stirring in his head and the lumpy mattress and he never did get along. He'd made it to lunch without getting into trouble but his mood was bound to rub the wrong person the wrong way at some point. The room was loud with conversation and smelled of a nasty combination of mediocre food and poor hygiene. Toby couldn't help but notice that Charles was speaking even less than normal and he looked like shit.

"What's going on, Charles?" Toby nudged him. "Are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess... it's my daughter. She has cancer, inoperable, and she's got weeks left. I can't see her. They won't let me out unless it's for a funeral." Westmoreland sighed, wiping his palm across his face. "It's not right. I'm supposed to die first...I won't even get to say goodbye to my only child." Toby could empathize with the man. He didn't know what he would do if the same thing were happening to Anna. He'd find a way to get to her that is for certain. No amount of walls nor weaponry could keep him from his little girl.

"Well, there just so happens to be a guy I know...he might be able to help you out?" Toby tilted his head, hoping Westmoreland wouldn't be offended. Wouldn't get pissed off. They had been dogging him to join the escape since the beginning and Toby was sure it was getting old. He didn't even know why it was such a big deal to have Charles along, but Michael said it was important.

"Thanks, kid. I'll think about it." Charles stood to leave. Toby was speechless. It was noncommittal but it was definitely not a 'no' this time. It took him a second to regain his bearings and follow Westmoreland to the trashcan to dump his tray. He'd just watched that last bit of what he assumed was macaroni slide off the edge of his plastic tray, when a commotion broke out behind him. Spinning around, all he saw was bodies surging forward and circling around trying to get a better position to see.

After what seemed like forever, CO's finally pushed everyone back. In their hands, a struggling Tweener shook like he was having a seizure. Hell, for all Toby knew, he could be having one. Food and vomit stained Tweener's front, his eyes rolled back in his head. The kid shook with such force that it took three bulls to carry him. They rushed out of the room before Toby could ask what was going on or whether David would be okay.

Toby paced the cell block, anxious to hear if his peculiar friend was going to be alright. It had been an hour since the cafeteria had been cleared out, sending all the inmates back to the block for some free roaming time. The tier were crowded and it made Toby nervous to be among some of the convicts. He could have sworn he was going to be jumped at least twice, but it didn't happen. Toby was beginning to think that he was being paranoid, that he was making it all up in his head to psych himself out. Outside of the prison walls Toby had never been a 'hot' commodity, per say, so maybe the attention he was receiving in here was going straight to his head.

It wasn't like he was the sexiest thing on two legs. Toby had to laugh at himself. Of course he wasn't automatic bitch bait. Not everyone was out to get him. He just needed to calm down. Toby drew in a deep breath, releasing it slowly to ease the pressure inside his body when the one and only Tweener walked his happy ass through the main entrance.

"Yo, 'sup, Sunny? Look like you seen a ghost, dawg." Tweener strutted over to his worried friend.

"Well, whatever that was that happened to you looked pretty intense." Toby relaxed.

"Had to get whimsical, yeah?" Tweener blasted a full blown grin, producing from his pocket a shiny gold watch. Toby snatched it from the kid's hand and stuffed it in his own pocket, quickly looking around for any witnesses. No one seemed to be paying attention.

"Watch it, Tweener. Do you want to get us killed? We can't let Geary know who has the damn Rolex, okay." Toby hissed.

"It's a Remedi, yo."

"Whatever." Toby rolled his eyes. "I'll get it to Scofield, you try to not to look so proud of yourself." The kid wandered off to his cell, already belting out lyrics to that stupid rap of sighed, pulling his fingers through his hair. After a beat, he too went off to his cell to find Westmoreland in a book. The old man looked up, as if sensing that Toby was there.

"Do you want in?" Toby leaned onto the bunk. Charles didn't say anything but slowly placed a bookmark between the pages, setting his book aside. "Okay," Toby bit the inside of his cheek. "Let's go talk to Scofield." The two trudged up to the second tier.

Toby tapped the watch lightly on the bars, catching Michael's attention. "A gift from our pal."

"Thank you and thank him." Michael slipped the gold accessory into his pocket.

"What's the watch for anyway?" Westmoreland chimed in.

"I thought you didn't want to know about any of this." Michael smirked.

"Things have changed. I want in."

"Why the sudden change of heart?" Michael slouched against the wall.

"I have my reasons..." The older man scowled.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but everyone who's in is bringing something to the table." Michael's eyes shifted between the two. Toby was confused; Michael wanted Charles to come but was giving the guy shit about what he had to offer. It didn't add up.

"How about money." Westmoreland crossed his arms over his chest.

"How much are we talking about?"

"I think you know."

"I seem to remember several conversations that ended with 'I am not D.B. Cooper.'"

"I lied." Toby's mouth dropped open.

"You lied..." Michael shook his head.

"Are you serious?" Toby felt like Sucre about the wife. How could Charles not have told him?

"We're cons, we tend to do that."

"I checked your alibi. According to records, you were incarcerated at the time of the Cooper hijacking."

"My father and I share more than just a weakness for easy money. We also share a name. Charles Westmoreland Senior was the one locked up that day. Now do you want the money or not?" The old head started to look anxious.

"No offense, but it's a little convenient. You want in and suddenly you're the guy. How do I know you're not lying right now?" Michael whispered, just before a guard walked by ordering Toby and Westmoreland back to their cells. They walked in silence for a bit, but Toby wanted answers.

"Why didn't you tell me? You know you can trust me, Charles." Toby stopped inside the cell, turning to face his friend.

"In here, you never really know who you can trust. Not that I didn't believe in you, Tobias, it's just survival. It's easier to live in here if people don't have a reason to pay attention to you. I couldn't risk people finding out about the money." Charles sat back down on his bunk. Toby understood; he would have done the same thing in his position. No press was good press inside these walls. He nodded before jumping up into his bunk, returning to his sketchbook.


	31. Chapter 31

Toby dumped a bucket on broken concrete into into the dry wall. Dust kicked up into his face, the particles tickled in Toby's chest. His eyes stung as he coughed. He wiped his face with a rag,before turning around to grab another pale from Sucre. He was in the hole digging like his life depended on it.

"Hey, Sucre. I got a question about you and the rest of the Mexicans." T-Bag crouched by the hole, dropping his bucket to the floor.

"I don't think I'll be able to help, seeing as I am Puerto Rican." The man glared up from the rubble, shovel in hand. Toby figured he could use it as a nice weapon should he want to take that racist bastard down a notch. It'd be nice to see Bagwell get what was coming to him for once.

"Geographical semantics, Amigo. I'm talkin' about the general Latino population. How is it that a people so historically lazy ended up being such a big part of the nation's work force?" T-Bag smirked at the fierce anger Sucre was suppressing.

"The way I see things, it's everyone else that's lazy. Otherwise, there wouldn't be any jobs for the immigrants. The one's sitting at home collecting unemployment, the lazy ones, it's not us." The bald man practically growled. C-Note held up a sheet of drywall up, measuring it to fit perfectly.

"You gonna let him talk about your people like that?" T-Bag stood up, smiling over to Toby. He realized that he had stopped working to watch the scene unfold. Shaking his head Toby walked back over to the hole, grabbing another bucket of rocks.

"Yeah...whatever, hillbilly. You know what? We may be a team in here, but just to let you know, the minute we get over that wall it's every man for himself." C-Note spat, face to face with Bagwell. "Or sooner." The man walked back out of the room to cut the drywall, Leaving T-Bag, Sucre, and Toby left in the construction. The other half of the team was out doing work in the yard. They were called out shortly after they began work in the breakroom that day. It was a definite setback on the digging, but Michael seemed pleased with it anyway.

Toby sat the empty bucket down again, resting on his heels. "Do you want to trade jobs, Fernando? You're looking pretty tired." The hispanic man looked up from his shoveling with a lazy smile.

"Thanks, man." He reached out to take the guy's hand and pull him from the hole.

"Always lookin' out for other people's interests ain't ya, Sunny?" T-Bag sauntered over, leering at the small man. Toby wouldn't be able to get out of the hole without assistance. His shoulders barely leveled with the floor. "Got a real nice streak runnin' through ya."

Toby glared up at the pedophile for a second before digging the shovel into the rubble. Technically, T-Bag just complimented him, but it felt like a jab at his character. It felt like a threat and Toby didn't know how to respond. So, he just worked as hard as he could till he could block out everything but himself, the shovel, and the buckets of concrete he filled. It made the time fly by and soon Toby needed out of the hole so they could cover it. Unfortunately, Sucre had just gone out to get C-Note, leaving only T-Bag to help out. The southerner pulled Toby from the hole with enough force to fling the young man into his body. He caught them both before they could crash to the floor, stumbling back a bit. He chest vibrate with his deep chortle, as Toby pushed himself away from the rapist.

Giving the southerner a dread full glance, he quickly marched over to the line returning to the cell block. Toby was headed straight to his cell to find Charles reaching deep under the bunks, far over to the wall. He strained himself but couldn't quite reach whatever he was aiming for. "What are you doing?" Toby laughed. It was quite a scene to walk in on.

"Marilyn knocked my box all the way back..."He grunted. "Can you help an old man out?" Toby helped Charles to his feet, letting him move out of the way. Toby then got down on his hands and knees, looking under the beds. Sure enough, the plastic box of all Charles' belongings rested in the far corner, too close to the corner to be reached any other way than from underneath the bunk. Toby crawled his way under, appreciating his small size for the first time.  
He slid the box back along his side, toward the main space of the cell. Toby squirmed out from under the frame to see Westmoreland fingering through a pile of papers, till he reached a manilla envelope. From inside of which he slid a single bill marked with the face of the founding father Benjamin Franklin. Toby felt a slow smile form on his face. Westmoreland really was the fabled D.B. Cooper.


	32. Chapter 32

"Hey, I know that look. What's up?" Lincoln asked his brother, worried about the thousand-yard stare he'd acquired. Toby looked from his work sanding the wallpaper as smooth as a baby's bottom. Michael did look a little off. He was staring into space as though the world around him were falling apart, but he snapped back to the real world with the blink of an eye. Scofield smiled at his brother reassuredly as Sucre started shouting behind them.

"I..I got it. I hit it!" The hispanic man laughed, tapping the shovel against the metal pipe he stood on. Toby rushed over to stare into the hole. It was so real, the escape was feeling so incredibly possible in that moment. He couldn't think, he could barely breathe. Toby was so excited. That pipe couldn't be more than a few inches thick. Then they were practically out of here. T-Bag opened the door, overhearing the joy from his post outside. Toby looked back at him, not letting his smile slip a bit. He couldn't care that his tormentor was standing behind him; all he thought about was the freedom just below their feet.

Toby turned around to see the forlorn facial expressions on the brothers' faces. He automatically knew that this escape had just turned a corner. Having no idea what it was that was bothering them; he started taking marks on everything that could go wrong for him and for the escape. There were a lot of variables and that was scary enough, let alone add in malice of other inmates. Greedy for the outside air; they would do anything to get over that wall. They could be as much trouble as anything else, maybe even more so.

Toby worried that whole day. He tried to figure where he stood with the brothers but knew he wasn't necessary. Abruzzi had transportation and Westmoreland had money; everyone else was expendable. Toby had helped with parts of the escape but was it enough to convince Scofield to keep him in on everything were things to get rough? That was something that he couldn't answer. To relieve his mind of stress, Toby decided a nice phone call would do him some good. The booths were packed and he didn't know who he was going to call, so he got in line hoping to come up with someone by the time he reached the receivers.

Bagwell was leaning against one of the phones at the very end of the row. Toby stared at his back, he had on his dark blue button down today. Toby wondered how he always seemed to have clean clothes with all the blood that he was spattered with. Toby himself had to have stained quite a few, yet he never once saw the man in red marked shirts or pants. He must have paid someone in the laundry room.

"That baby boy all grow'd up yet?" Toby overheard the southerner chime. It was almost unnerving to hear the guy so...happy. Listening to this T-Bag, you'd never think he was capable of all the shit he'd done.

"Aw, he's gonna raise hell the next few years; take after his momma." Bagwell chortled into phone, turning around. Toby was caught off guard by his smile. As if the voice was strange enough, his whole facial expression was, well, innocent. He was genuinely tickled to be talking to whoever was on the other end of the line. It was like the Twilight Zone for Toby.

T-Bag's smile slid into an expression Toby knew too well and looking up from the man's mouth to his eyes, Toby saw why. He'd been caught by the predator, staring at him with who knows what kind of look, but Bagwell obviously enjoyed the attention. He licked his lips, winking at Toby before turning away from him again.

"Yeah you know, same old same up here." Toby saw the man's fingers tighten around the receiver, looking off through the fence. Following his gaze, he saw Abruzzi and some of this goons ambling along the sidewalk, only Abruzzi was staring straight at Bagwell. Toby could feel the tension between the two. It was a scary thing, the two most powerful men in the prison at each other's throats. Toby only hoped they could hold out on killing each other until they were out of here. Scofield needed Abruzzi's plane, and Toby needed Scofield's plan.

"But, um, things are gettin' pretty tense...like they're fixin' to, uh, collide on me, Jimmy. There's a potential situation..." Bagwell shifted away from Abruzzi. He set his hand on the phone booth's metal side, blocking his mouth from the mob boss's eyes. T-Bag looked up glaring slightly at Toby as he explained what was going on, all about the escape, to this Jimmy in thinly veiled code words. As if daring the boy to say a word, he smirked as he spoke. Toby's mouth gaped open and closed like a fish and he quickly searched the inmates around them to see if any had been paying attention. They were all in conversations of their own though, whether that be at the phones or in the line mattered not. They were wrapped up in their own things, save for Toby who had no friends in here to talk with.

T-Bag hung up the phone, never taking his eyes off the distraught boy. Toby lurched out of line, walking as quickly as he could in the opposite direction of the phones. He no longer wanted to make a call, he just needed to get as far as he could from the time bomb that was T-Bag. The guy was a maniac, he had just spilled the beans over a line that was recorded. The guards could listen in whenever they wanted. For all Toby knew, they could be done for already.  
T-Bag sauntered after Toby, knowing that the boy had nowhere to run to. He wasn't allowed inside right now. All he could do was go in circles and he would be caught. Toby looked over his shoulder to see his tormentor only a few meters behind him. He squeezed eyes shut for a second, his breath coming rapidly. Then, Toby just stopped. In the dead center of the yard, he turned to face Theodore Bagwell.

"What the hell were you thinking, T-Bag? You could have gotten us all caught." Toby wanted to shout, but forced his voice down to just below his normal speaking voice. It was strained and it was gruff from the effort to contain his powderkeg of stress and fear.

"Take a chill pill, Sunny boy. I was just attaining some much needed assurances. You understand. A man in my position may be on the proverbial chopping block, as it were, so I made damn sure I won't be left behind." Bagwell waved off the smaller man's complaints. He watched as Toby considered again what he had to offer the escape and what he'd put in. T-Bag took a step closer to the boy, pulling out his pocket. "You take my pocket and I'll protect you. Make sure you have a ticket on this train...for a small price."


	33. Chapter 33

Toby rubbed his eye, laughing at the strange way life came and went. Nearly as soon as he'd arrived in this place T-Bag offered him his pocket and here he was nearly out of it and again the pocket was offered. It would have been funny if it had not been for the pain that was involved. Toby's chuckle was a sour one, it was desperation and the wear of prison life on both body and nerves. Bagwell's lopsided grin stood proud on his face, knowing Toby wouldn't risk being left out in the cold. Not with his reputation in here.

Without protection, Toby would be raped and killed. It was only a matter of time. He would never make it to his parole hearing, his release date, his daughter; it was all gone if he didn't get out on this escape. In prison, he was just a punk. He was considered weak and he would be taken in a heartbeat. Even if Bagwell was the roughest with his boys, he was nothing compared to the gangbangs. They left prags torn to shreds and bleeding from every orifice they had. Their bones broken, their organs beaten bloody in their gushy cavities; death would not come fast and it would be painful, the worst pain imaginable.

Toby took a rough shaky breath in, his chest felt tight and his heart weighed heavy. He couldn't seem to speak with his tongue like lead in his mouth. So after swallowing a mouth of thick spit passed the lump in his throat; Toby reached out with shaking fingers to take hold of the fabric. He turned his head away from the gloating smile and the look in Bagwell eye's. He couldn't take that right now. He just needed over that wall. He needed to live.

"Let's take a walk, boy." The older man purred as he led the two the rest of the way across the yard to the benches upon which his 'family' sat. "A warm welcome is in order for the return of our little Sunny." T-Bag ruffled Toby's hair, sitting them down amongst the hyenas laughing at their leader's jest. Toby hung his head, thinking only that after all he'd gone through he was back at the beginning. Only this time he chose it; he'd taken the pocket willingly. In the end it would be worth it, it had to. Going through all this, he would get to hold his daughter in his arms again. He had to remind himself of what he had waiting for him out there and that alone would be what carried him through this shit.

With a sigh Toby finally lifted his head to look out at crowded yard. He took it all in at once, using his peripheral vision instead of turning his head. T-Bag was in conversation with one of his Nazis about Spanish ladies. They were being disgusting, talking about the women as though they were animals to be used and abused as they saw fit. Toby had to blocked them out, feeling ill of their opinions. Off to left field, he noticed someone staring at him. He didn't want to look, but the curiosity was stronger than his apprehension.

Tweener stood midstep near the chess tables with a look of utter confusion on his face. His head shook slightly back and forth, not believing what he was seeing. Toby, his friend that had warned him of the dangers of T-Bag, now sat beside the villain holding his pocket. It didn't make sense to the boy, nor should it have. Toby couldn't look at him. He was too embarrassed. He jerked his head the other way, trying to block out the image.

T-Bag felt the boy tense at his side, shifting he saw what had Toby all flustered. "Tweener over there seems a mite confused, eh?" Bagwell laughed, leaning close to Toby's ear. "Wonder how he'd feel if he knew you'd been here before, or that it is because of you that he isn't." The rapist smiled against the boy's flesh as it quivered slightly. Toby's body shook, the muscles straining to pull away from the danger but the mind held them there. Toby knew he couldn't piss off Bagwell now. The guy was securing Toby's freedom. Instead, he forced himself to look into the bastard's eyes.

"Don't tell him. I don't want him to feel like he owes me." Toby muttered, losing the strength in his voice after the first sentence.

"My silence illicites certain favors, Sunny." T-Bag slid a hand along the inside of Toby's thigh. Toby broke out in a cold sweat, trying his hardest to quell the storm of emotions flooding his system. Every touch from the pedophile threw Toby's body into panic mode, no matter how small the gesture.

"Everything illicites those kind of favors, T-Bag..." Toby grumbled quietly, which only caused the older man to laugh. He squeezed Toby's knee tightly enough to enforce a twinge of pain.

"Now, you wouldn't be complaining, would you, boy?" He sneered. "Not after I offer to let you tag along on my insurance plan." Bagwell smiled stiffly, his brown eyes cold as steel. He didn't care if Toby got out of here. If pushed the wrong way he would gladly kill the punk before letting him get the better of the situation.

Toby sighed, looking down at the hand that molested his knee. "No.." He grimaced.

"No, what?" T-Bag smirked

"No...sir?" Toby guessed. T-Bag leaned back, enjoying the new found obedience in his toy. It sure had taken a while for Sunny to reach this point, accepting his position and everything it entailed.


	34. Chapter 34

Toby stood in line for PI, already jumpsuited and waiting to be led to the nearly finished breakroom. He was quiet, unusually so, standing next to the smiling Bagwell. The group had begun to notice Toby's lack of input. He had always been background noise, but even so, before he had actually made noise. Now, Toby stood quiet as the grave and twice as jumpy. Being overpowered by T-Bag had been one thing to his psyche, but allowing and accepting the abuse...that was causing some major rifts. When he thought about it he felt hollow; like his insides had been scooped out. Yet there they were every time T-Bag beat him, his organs howled inside him.

With a sigh he trudged on, so tired. He barely slept. Bagwell had forced him to ask Bellick to move him back in with the pervert. It was so embarrassing; Toby had felt his cheeks flame up as he approached the glowering badge. That frown flipped instantaneously when he realized why Toby had come.

"Couldn't get that sweet lovin' from the Old Head?" He smiled. "Not like Bagwell gave it to you?" Toby swallowed the bile that threatened to come up.

"Yes, Boss. You hit the nail on the head. I love everything that T-Bag does...Now could you please just switch my cells..." Toby snapped. He was under too much stress to deal with Bellick's tauntings. Though he automatically regretted his words; as a dark look came over the CO's face.

"Get your shit, Locke." Toby did as he was told, settled back into Hell. T-Bag watched with avid amusement as once again Toby climbed up to the top bunk. Bellick still had a bone to pick with Tobias, but he left without further incident, for now. Bagwell on the other hand hardly waited for the cell door to close before the sheets were hung.

So here Toby was, tired and sore and stressed out beyond belief. He hoped dealing with Theodore would be worth it. If they didn't make it out, he was going to regret his decision for a long time. Toby grabbed a paintbrush out of the wheelbarrow and began to paint the one wall that had been completely drywalled and sanded, as the rest of the team filed in. Save for the brothers, who were lagging behind the rest. C-Note went out to watch for guards, leaving Bagwell to paint alongside Toby. Abruzzi and Sucre worked on the hole, while Charles handled the inventory.

"How ya feeling, Sunny?" T-Bag stepped closer to the boy, not that he actually cared. He just wanted Toby to have to say something, Bagwell knew his jaw had to be aching.

"I'm fine." Toby breathed through his teeth, trying his best to not move his mouth. T-Bag snickered, painting the same spot over and over again.

"Is that so? I'ma have to try harder next time." He smiled devilishly as Toby's eyes did all the talking. Bagwell enjoyed how they widened with unspoken fear, how glossy they were from lack of sleep. He loved how Toby's body reacted in ways his words would have never told. The boy's mouth could lie, but the rest of him never quite figured out how. After a minute T-Bag put his brush away to slink out the door. Toby didn't know where he was going but was glad he was gone for the moment.

The door burst open behind Toby, causing the shocked young man to drop his paintbrush. He stooped to snatch it up as C-Note, Lincoln and Michael entered. "Apparently, college boy here did the math, figured out that we have too many clowns in the car. See one of us is in here diggin' but his seat ain't guaranteed." C-Note announced. Michael rubbed his temples, trying to find a way to appease the flustered group.

"How's this any of your business, man?" Burrows stopped the pacing he'd begun when they entered.

"He doesn't know what he is talking about." Michael shoved his hands in his pockets, turning to look at C-Note.

"I'm not going to dig, if I'm not going to go." Sucre piped in, dropping the shovel.

"We need to make a decision on who gets cut." Lincoln said atop of everyone else's  
complaining.

"Well, I think we can all agree who that should be..." Abruzzi offered, as none other than the man himself walked back in. T-Bag froze, letting the metal close behind him. He knew immediately that they had been talking about him by the way the room fell silent. Even Toby had a weird look on his face, a look of a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Oh, pardon me for interruptin'," He sneered, forcing a smile upon his face. "but, uh, what is that smell? It smells a little like conspiracy." His eyes wandered about the faces.

"We need to get back to work..." Michael complained, pulling his beanie from his head, like T-Bag was just an annoyance easily brushed off.

"Yeah, before you do I've got a little announcement to make. I've been growing leery the way y'all talk, like I'm a lesser man. So, I bought an insurance policy. Let me correct myself, I bought me and Sunny an insurance policy." He smiled, locking eyes with Toby for a second too long. "I called up my guy on the outside and told him about our plan. And I told him, in all likelihood I'll be seein' him next week. But...if he don't hear from me five minutes before and twenty minutes after the escape; he's gonna call up the warden and blow the whistle on the whole thing. So, if y'all got ideas about gettin' rid of me or the kid; I suggest you make other plans." The group exchanged looks of confusion and anger. Their scapegoat was a step ahead of them and that was aggravating to say the least.

Bagwell raised a finger, beckoning Toby to follow him outside for a private kind of conversation. Toby reluctantly set his paint brush aside. As he turned to shut the door behind him, he caught a strange look on Scofield's face. Toby wasn't sure if it was worry or what, but the man did look bothered by Toby going out alone with the southerner. T-Bag leaned against the side of the building, waiting for Toby.

"When we get over that wall, you and I are going south. Together, ya hear? Letting you tag along on this endeavor, that's a favor with a high price." The rapist lightly placed a bony hand on Toby's side, a smile gracing his lips. "You will finishing paying by helping me meet up with my cousin. My face is a little too well known 'round those parts, so I need you to do my bidding a bit."

Toby started to shake his head, but stopped when Bagwell pushed himself off the building and dug his fingers into the smaller man. Looking anywhere but the older man's face, Toby exchanged his denial of the deal with a curt nod. His breath pulsing quicker than the beats of his hearts. He was terrified of this man. In some ways Theodore reminded him of his father, which bothered Toby even more.

"What are you two doing over there?" A guard called on his way into the breakroom. Toby tensed, but felt Bagwell's hand finally fall from his ribs.

"Nothing, Boss." T-Bag replied. "Boy was being lazy in his working. Had to give him a talkin' to. You understand." The lie rolled off his tongue like it had actually happened.

"Fine. Get in line to head back to the cell block." The badge said as he headed in to grab the rest of the convicts. Toby spun around, heading over the crack in the pavement that they always lined up on. He was so sick of lines. They were the beginning and the ending of the worst days in Toby's bleak life. He'd give almost anything to go back to the day he'd robbed that Photomat. Just go back and stop himself from going in that store. He should have been at home tucking Anna into bed, not out in the alleyways like a hoodlum.

Toby was smacked out of his thoughts by the back of Bagwell's hand. He'd been zoned out the whole way back to the cell block, even managed to change uniform without realizing it. "I said, grab my pocket, Sunny. You know the rules." An annoyed T-Bag repeated himself.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry." Toby fished his hand out of his own pocket to wrap his fingers around the other's. They walked down the line of cells towards their own, following Charles. T-Bag was in a fine mood. Toby could tell by the way he strutted when he walked. His hips swished with confidence, while his head and shoulders tailed behind. He was overjoyed with the way his insurance policy had gone over. The way their jaws dropped and their eyes bugged out. It was perfect.

"D.B." Westmoreland turned to the sound of his other persona. "Oh, is that who you is now? I thought you were just a cowboy." T-Bag smiled triumphant again.

"Take a couple steps back, Boy." Charles all but growled. Toby had never heard the old man ever sound so angry.

"You know what I can't understand is why somebody like you wants to get out of here anyway. How you gonna survive, huh? The world's all different now and scary. They got computer phones, boobies made outa silicone, you wouldn't know what to do." Bagwell pulled Toby along, provoking his friend.

"I don't have to justify myself to you." Westmoreland turned to face his aggressor.

"Oh, you gonna have to. Them old bones just gonna be draggin' us down. Maybe I oughta just snap a few of them right now!" T-Bag sneered, getting up in the old man's face. Charles shoved him away, unintentionally knocking him into Toby.

"Take your best shot." He challenged. Toby's mouth gaped open.

"Break it up down there." Geary ordered from the second tier. Toby grabbed Bagwell's arm steering him away from Charles; he looked over his shoulder offering his friend a look of apology and worry. People who spoke to T-Bag that harshly didn't last. Toby just hoped Charles made it long enough to get out of here.

"Bow out, Cowboy. I ain't gonna warn you no more." Bagwell growled, pulling his arm from Toby's grip. He gave the smaller man a deadly glare, grabbing him by his neck and tossing him into their cell. He would not be handled by his bitch. That was not the way things worked around here; not now, not ever.


	35. Chapter 35

Toby scooted back, till he cracked his head on the table. Bagwell advanced slowly, watching his prey whimper, attempting to calm the situation. T-Bag slapped the boy, finally shutting his mouth. "Why do ya always make it so hard for yourself, Sunny?" He kneeled before the quivering boy, breathing in the terrified little sounds as they escaped his toy. Bagwell roughly cupped his hand around the back of Toby's head, forcing their mouths together. Toby tried to deny T-Bag entrance, but the man's skillful tongue snaked between the boy's lips to plunder his mouth. The younger man pushed against the rapist's shoulders as he slid a knee between Toby's legs, pinning him against the table.

Toby squirmed in an attempt to shift his body sideways, the only direction available to get away from T-Bag. The older man's mouth tasted sour, from months if not years of neglecting to clean his teeth. Toby wanted to gag, but he had more pressing matters. He could feel the man's dick stiffen against his thigh and Toby squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block the flood of memories and sensations it brought on. A groan escaped Toby throat, his hands still attempting to push away the pedophile.

Finally Toby managed to flip onto his side and scramble out of the corner. He coughed, dragging his body across the floor. T-Bag spun, grabbing hold of Toby's leg and pulled him back. The rapist let his body fall heavily atop of the younger man, crushing him under the weight. He rubbed his cheek into Toby's hair, whispering into his ear, "You are gonna strip and get in my bunk...or we are gonna do this the hard way and you're gonna be heading for the infirmary in the mornin'. Are we clear?" When Toby didn't reply right away, Bagwell pressed the kid's skull painfully into the concrete with his hand. "I said, are we clear?"

Toby nodded quickly, happy to be rid of T-Bag's weight. The rapist lifted himself to drop the sheet into place, waiting to see what the boy's next move would be. Toby made his way to his feet slowly, he eyed Bagwell as he leaned against the wall near the fallen sheet. He wore a sinister smile upon his face, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. Toby hated him. He wished he were strong like Lincoln or Abruzzi. Strong enough to fight T-Bag and win, but he was not. For such a small, wiry guy, Bagwell was deceptively powerful. It amazed Toby in an all too dreadful way.

Toby heaved a great sigh, washing away the emotions. He knew he wouldn't be able to escape if he was tangled up with medical equipment in the infirmary, nor be able to run with all the drugs pumping through his system. So, with shaky breaths and shakier fingers, Toby unbuttoned his shirt and slid it from his shoulders. His eyes ground into the toes of his boots as he slipped them from his feet and pulled his trousers off. He turned and tossed the bundle under the table, leaving only his boxers to be removed. Toby sucked in a breath as he straightened ready to face his demise, but before he could he was pushed over the table. T-Bag gripped his hair in one hand, the other one winding along his spine. Many of the scars were gone now, only a few faint pink lines remained. The rest were white and hard to see in the shadowy darkness.

T-bag dipped his head kissing and licking Toby's shaking shoulders, his hips grinding into the boy. "Wise decision, Sunny." He murmured into the flesh of the boy's back. Toby felt the sting of tears as they welled in the corner of his eyes.

"Just do it already..." Toby groaned, pressing his face into the wood as T-Bag chuckled above him.

"Want me that badly, Sunny?" Bagwell teased, rubbing himself against Toby's clenched ass. "You're gonna want to relax." The rapist pulled the white fabric down around the smaller man's knees. He lifted Toby from the table and smacked his ass, shoving him toward the bunk. Toby caught a hold of the bar between the beds, stopping him from smacking his head on that, too. Before falling into the bunk, Toby finished removing his underwear, tossing them to the floor.

He clutched the pillow tightly in his fingers; his eyes shut tight to the world around him and his belly pressed to the scratchy prison sheets. Toby heard T-Bag shuffle, removing his clothing. The young man flinched when Bagwell spat into his hand. The rapist giggled, leering at the boy through lust hooded eyes. The anticipation of the pain to come was making Toby shiver in fear. He hated waiting for the bastard to hurt him, almost as much as he hated him for hurting him. After what seemed like ages, the bunk began to shift under the added weight of T-Bag as he crawled in behind Toby. He eyed the lithe body before him. His eyes traveling the hills and valleys, all the way down to the red scarred brand. T-Bag slicked his shaft with his spit, while his other hand reached down to trace the jagged letters.

Toby shuttered at the touch on such a sensitive part of his body. He felt a hot tear slide down his cheek, the flesh of his brand stung as though it were once again a fresh wound. Though he knew the feeling was only a trick of the mind; he couldn't ignore the phantom pain. The hand moved to press into the bed beside Toby, Bagwell's body lowering to drape over the smaller man. "Relax, Sunny..." T-Bag warned, directing the head of his dick to jam against Toby's asshole. The older man lifted himself to spit again, this time into the shaking boy's crack. He smeared the saliva over the hole before shoving himself inside.

Toby bit onto the pillow with all his might, trying to stifle the screams of pain that welled up inside him. Instead he only muffled them, his body clenching involuntarily. T-Bag rolled his head down to lay on Toby's shivering back. He quietly moaned, resting his body on the smaller man's, while pushing his knees further apart with his own.

"Unhh, shit, Sunny...still tighter than a virgin." Bagwell slowly began thrusting into the boy, as Toby stretched around him. Toby tried not to clench against the pain, it took everything he had not squirm and try to escape. He knew how that ended up and yet it was his body's first reaction to being impaled. Run. His body kept screaming 'run' in his mind. T-Bag reached up to grip Toby's shoulders pulling the boy back to meet each of his thrusts. His speed picked up and the power of each thrust climbed. Suddenly a fire ignited in Toby's stomach. That unfamiliar pleasure that sparked whenever T-Bag hit his prostate.

The blaze roared and Toby felt himself harden against the bed. No, he couldn't allow this bastard to make him like being raped. His mind fought, but his body continued on its own accord. Toby panted as the intensity of his arousal heightened. He rolled his hips into T-Bag, grinding back against the man. Bagwell's hands left the smaller man's shoulders to roam and tease his body. They circled underneath Toby's body, playing at his tender nipples.

Toby fought for control over his body, pulling away from Bagwell's probing hands. He crouched on all fours, breathing erratically from both pain and pleasure. T-Bag bit hard onto Toby's shoulder, causing the boy to cry out. The older man hissed, clamping his hard over the smaller man's mouth. "Shut your trap, Boy." He growled, lifting himself from Sunny's back. T-Bag pulled roughly from Toby, shooting jizzum across his back.

T-Bag chuckled to himself, pushing Toby out of the bed. He reclined to watch as the boy attempted to wash away all the cum as it slid down his back. Using handfuls of toilet paper and the mirror over the sink, he tried to clean up everything he could. Toby resigned himself to having to get the rest during shower time the next day. His ass throbbed with a heartbeat of its own. It was very sore, but not ripped. He would at least not have to see Dr. Tancredi again for this evening's fiasco.

Toby tossed the last wad of toilet paper into the bowl. He pulled on his boxers, tucking his softening prick inside. "I see you enjoyed yourself." Bagwell chided from the bunks.

"Shut up. It's a natural reaction." Toby glared into the mirror.

"Right. You can keep telling yourself that, but you know you liked it." T-Bag's voice suddenly felt much closer. Toby spun around to find his tormentor standing directly behind him, still naked as the day he was born. "I could take care of that for you, Sunny. All you gotta do is admit you enjoy getting fucked." A vicious grin slid onto the man's face.

"I don't want you to take care of anything, T-Bag. And I didn't enjoy that." Toby felt his face flush with embarrassment. Brushing past Bagwell, Toby laboredly pulled himself up into his bunk. Even with his sore body, he would not give that bastard the gratification of watching Toby curl up on the floor because of him, or even worse in his bed. Toby could already feel pain begin to clench in his body from his ignored arousal. That and the throbbing of his abused ass were going to make for a long night.


	36. Chapter 36

The morning buzzer startled Toby from a terrible dream. He'd been dreaming of a childhood him being hunted down. He was running in a dark wooded area, running from something or someone that was only a few feet behind him. He could hear them, snapping twigs and breathing heavy. He ran as fast as could, but he was only a child. It tackled him to ground ripping at his clothes. He looked up at it, finding it was T-Bag over him. He cried and he screamed. He struggled with all his little boy might, but Toby could not break free of him. T-Bag fucked him and then suddenly, it wasn't T-Bag. It was his father thrusting into him.

He had never been so glad to hear those buzzers in his life. Toby sat up, covered in sweat. He wiped his hair back out of his face before jumping down. T-Bag was still laying in bed, awake but too lazy to get up yet. Toby threw on some pants as the sink filled with water. He was halfway through shaving when the guards called for count.

Bagwell rolled out of bed, patted Toby's shoulder. "Lookin' good, Sunny." He chuckled, stepping out onto the line. Toby had always shaved his cheeks first, meaning that what he had left to shave was a T-Bag-esque five-o'clock shadow. Toby shook his head, wiping off the shave cream to go wait for his name to be called. His nightmare ran through his head repeatedly. He couldn't get over how weird and disgusting it had been. He could understand how his mind had brought up the rape part...but his dad. That was too much.

No sooner had they been sent back into their cells, did a guard come to disturb Toby's shaving, again. "Bagwell, wait here. Pope wants to see you before you head out for yard time."

"You getting sent to solitary?" Toby joked, finally finishing his task.

"Don't sound so hopeful, Sunny." Bagwell snickered, sliding up behind the boy. "I could always give them a reason to send me off, eh?" He leaned into Toby, grinding his semi-hard cock against the smaller man's ass.

"Get off me, Bagwell." Toby pushed off of the sink and away from the pedophile.

"Don't think you are going anywhere boy. You go where I go, Pocket Pet. Besides, you requested that cell change, meaning it is Pope official. So, take a load off. We got some waiting to do." Bagwell sat atop of the table, relaxing. After a while, Toby sat down on the bottom bunk.

"When do you think they are going to give us breakfast?" The younger man asked.

"Why's it matter to ya? You never eat the stuff." T-Bag cocked an eyebrow, folding his arms.

"Just wondering.." Toby murmured, feeling silence stretched on for the next few minutes. Both men were lost in thoughts not privy to the other. Toby was trying to remember the scent of his wife's hair. He missed her so much. No matter how stressed out Toby had gotten over money or work, she always knew what to say to calm him down. That scent, the smell of her shampoo; it was soft and sweet like she was. Toby had been able to smell it when he walked into their tiny apartment, even before he saw her.

She got sick when Anna was only two. They never had enough money to take her to the doctor, so they never found out what it was. She just got so tired. Toby remembered having to come home and see his wife, so skinny, lying on the couch like the living dead. Anna would be crying in her crib neglected by her dying mother. At first Toby was angry with his wife for leaving their daughter locked in a baby pen, but he understood that Janice couldn't have cared for her. He had had to pick up the slack, working full time and being Daddy full time and playing doctor to his ailing wife. It was a lot to cover and it took its toll on the young man. For a while, he despised Janice for being able to just lay there day in and day out, but he knew she would gladly help if she could. His poor, kind Janice.

Toby shook his sad thoughts from his head as the warden approached. Bagwell had moved to sit next to Toby on the bunk, waiting near the bars for whatever it was Pope wanted to say. "Thank you for waiting Theodore, I don't mean to deny you your time in the yard." T-Bag stood, moving to stand outside the door.

"What's this all about?"

"I, uh, I'm afraid I have some terrible news. Are you sure you want your cellmate here?" The warden cast a sideways glance at Toby who still still sat on the edge of the bunk.

"He knows his place." Bagwell shifted uncomfortably from one hip to the other, shrugging. The warden nodded.

"Your cousin James was shot and killed in his home last night. His son, James Jr, was killed as well. I'm very, very sorry." Pope shook his head. T-Bag's mouth dropped open as emotion rolled over him. He gaped and attempted words, but faltered as sorrow overtook him. The warden spun around and left Bagwell to work through his feelings, knowing the man wouldn't want an audience.

Pressing the back of his hands to his eyes as he slid to the floor, tears cascaded down his face. The man rocked from heel to toe in his crouched position, trying to bring himself back under control. Toby watched in awe. He had never seen Theodore look so vulnerable. It was almost terrifying, seeing the waves of grief wrack the older man's body. Toby didn't know what to do. It felt wrong to sit there and witness this, but leaving would require the young man to disobey Bagwell. Finally he rose from his seat, approaching the crying man cautiously.

"T-Bag, I.." He was cut off, mid sentence.

"Get the fuck outa here, Boy!" Bagwell roared, taking a swing at Toby. The smaller man felt a strange sting come to life on his thigh. Looking down, a crimson line formed on his pants. Bagwell held the razor he kept under his tongue in a terrifying grip, begging for the boy to speak again. Instead, Toby backed away, rushing out of the cell block.

The yard was bleak and Toby felt heavy, having witnessed Bagwell in such an unusual state. The pain in that man's face should have been wonderful to see, but Toby felt nothing but empathy for him. The younger man knew how it felt to have your family taken from you, whether it be by disease or of his own doing, but he couldn't pretend to understand the feelings involved when a loved one was murdered. Murdered, wow. Who would do such a thing, especially to the little boy?

Suddenly it occurred to Toby that that had been the insurance plan. The one that he had given his body for. It was washed away and Toby knew who had caused it. The only one with that kind of power in here was Abruzzi. He had to be the one who called the hit on those two innocent lives. Toby felt a sinking in the pit of his stomach. He was up shit creek without a paddle.

"Where's your man, Sunny?" A gruff voice intruded on Toby's thoughts. "Out on your own again? Didn't please him?" Toby spun around to find none other than the pesky Avocado and two of his pals. They leered suggestively, stalking towards the scared inmate.

"I don't want any trouble...come on guys." Toby backed away, nearly tripping over a seat at a chess table.

"You don't have a choice, boy. We have unfinished business." Avocado sneered, cracking his neck and knuckles. "This is going to hurt no matter how you try and spin it, so why don't just give up now and let me take what's mine."

"You know T-Bag will kill you, right?" Toby stuttered. "He..He doesn't want anyone touching me but him." The trio continued to approach, unphased by their apparent demise.

"That's why you aren't going to tell him. Are you bitch?" Avocado lashed out, taking a fist full of Toby's jacket. The small man yelped in surprise, struggling against the meaty hand. He finally ripped himself out of the grip, stumbling into the cold, hard ground.

"How's about y'all back off my boy and scram. I'll pretend I didn't see this on account of what a tragic day it has already been." T-Bag sauntered up onto the scene, no trace of tears left on his thin face. Avocado and his groupies nearly broke their necks when they jerked to look at the glowering Bagwell. "Run along."

Frustrated that Toby escaped them, they finally shuffled away. Avocado glared at the younger man as he went, clearly still feeling entitled to his 'apology'. Toby was sure glad T-Bag finally showed up, otherwise Toby would have been bent over and gang banged by those mammoths of men. All as wide as they were tall and twice as vicious.

"We've got PI. Get off your ass." T-Bag looked drained, like it was an effort just to stand at this point. "Can't leave you alone for a god'damn minute. Shit, if you weren't such a good..." The predator turned, his words lost to the wind, not that Toby minded the last bit being cut off. It was sure to to have been grotesque. Toby hurried to his feet and caught up to the man as they made their way to the locker room.


	37. Chapter 37

Toby raked over the same spot, dragging the dead blades of grass into a small dead pile. Though he continued to work, his mind was wandering elsewhere and for unsuspected reasons it landed on Bagwell. Toby was in practical awe, T-Bag had barely spoken to him since they had started PI that day. The man just stared into space, his eyes open but empty. He must have really loved his cousin and his child. The fact that a monster like Bagwell actually had those kind of innocent feelings was something that shook Toby's world. How could T-Bag torture him with such sadistic glee and then be so kind hearted to Jimmy and James Jr in far away Alabama? It was a mind fuck to say the least.

Toby could only shake his head. He would never truly understand Bagwell. Then again, he would never want to either. Wind whipped through the prison, tossing Toby's little pile to the sky. Beginning again, he trudged after the scattered blades of grass and weeds. In following the wind swept rubbish, he landed a little closer to T-Bag than he would normally prefer, but the man was a zombie, a robot. He mimicked life like qualities, but he was checked out of reality. Toby almost hoped the man was lost in happy memories involving his recently departed family members; but after everything he'd been put through, he could not.

Suddenly, three large goons in PI uniforms grabbed hold of T-Bag, dragging him back into an old shed. He kicked and struggled but couldn't break free of them. Toby froze, bewildered for a second before he rushed after them. He didn't know why he was trying to save the bastard. Something inside of him just didn't want another person to die, even if that person was Bagwell. When Toby reached the shed door, it was jammed shut, they must have pushed something against it to block the badges from reaching them. So Toby slid around the side, looking for a window to crawl through.

Toby slid to a stop, the windows were not the kind that could ever be opened without breaking them, but what stopped Toby in his tracks was the beating he saw through them. T-Bag was being thrashed by two of the dudes that grabbed him, while the other one guarded the blocked door. One of the men kept him from falling, the other beating the daylights out of him. Blood trickled from the corner of Theodore's mouth. His head hanging loosely on his shoulders, bobbing with the force of each hit he took. Toby felt like he should do something, go get a guard, anything; but he was mesmerized by the sight of his one true evil turned victim with his hands taped together and held over his head preventing him from blocking any shots.

Breaking Toby's hypnosis, a knock resounded on the metal door. Immediately, goon number three pulled the heavy barrel away. Toby wasn't surprised when Abruzzi strode through the opening, calm as could be. He was used to doing this kind of thing. He probably watched it go down on a daily basis on the outside. Through the thin panes of glass, Toby could hear the muffled words being spoken.

"Alright that's enough. Leave us alone." Abruzzi calmly ordered, striding to the middle of the room.

"You sure?" Goon number one glared at the bloody southerner in his hands.

"Get out of here." Abruzzi jerked his head to the door. Goon one tossed Bagwell like a doll onto the plywood table behind him. T-Bag groaned, trying to roll himself into a more guarded position.

"You don't have to do this," Bagwell whimpered, as Abruzzi pulled half a pair of scissors from his sleeve. "Ooohh, you don't have to do this..." The man repeated over and over as the mob boss placed the point of the blade to his throat.

"You brought it on yourself. I'm just an adversary for all the pain and suffering that you've caused. All the families you've ruined. All the kids.." He gripped the scissor blade tighter.

"What about Jimmy? He had nothing to do with this. You didn't need to kill him." T-Bag stared wide eyed at Abruzzi. "And what about his beautiful son. His whole life gone, why'd have to kill that beautiful child?! After all I've done, maybe I do deserve to die. Maybe I do, but you are no better than me!" Abruzzi pulled T-Bag to his feet, the southerner on the verge of angry tears.

"You son of a...but I can be better than you! If I want! God has given me the chance to choose!" Their faces barely two inches apart, spittle flying between them.

"What?"

"And maybe, I should give you a chance as well." Abruzzi shook the man in his hands.

"Maybe you should, maybe you should.." The confused southerner saw a glimmer of hope to survive this ordeal. "Anything, please. Please, please." He whispered, tears choking his words. Abruzzi leaned close to Theodore's ear.

"Back out." He ordered, returning to their face to face position raising the scissor blade to Bagwell's eye.

"Of the escape?" T-Bag's voice shook.

"Or die." Toby couldn't believe what he was seeing. T-Bag had never been so...like this. Toby couldn't even come up with a word to describe the man blubbering for his life not fifteen feet away. This was not the Bagwell Toby knew and it scared him.

"I..well, I.." T-Bag laughed bewilderedly, his words jumbling together. "I wouldn't make it out there any way. Not with my proclivities."

"I want you to give me your word." John palmed the back of T-Bag's head, the blade still resting below his eye. "You hear me, I want you to give me your word!" He shook the smaller man.

"You got it John, you got it. Come on, please." Bagwell begged.

"Swear."

"I'm out, I swear!" Toby covered his mouth with one hand. Afraid to breathe, even though he knew they would not hear him. "I swear to God!" The southerner continued, throwing his face into Abruzzi's chest, tears flowing freely.

"Alright! I have forgiven you." The scissor blade finally lowered. "I have forgiven you. You just have to pray that the Lord Jesus Christ will do the same." He threw T-Bag back onto the table, turning to leave the shed. Bagwell sat up slowly, his sobs turned to chuckles. Toby saw a slip of metallic shine pass between his mouth and his hand. A feeling of dread welled in his stomach, for he knew exactly what it had been.

"Hey, John, you know, actually, about Jesus..." As the man turned back around, T-Bag sliced the razor across his neck. Toby jumped back as blood splattered against the window. "Say hi to 'im for me, will ya?" He rolled his shoulders, smiling like the Chesire cat. What Toby had taken for a man begging for his life, had been the con of a man who'd manipulated since the day he was born. He played Abruzzi like a fiddle and, now, left him broken and bleeding out on the shed floor. For a second, Toby couldn't move. He just stood there, watching as Abruzzi choked on his own blood. A puddle of red forming around him.

Then the man's senses raced back to him and he took off running. He rounded the corner, barely missing the jolly Bagwell. T-Bag's smirk, faded to suspicious shock as his boy passed him and he knew immediately what Toby had seen. But he didn't stop, Toby ran all the way over to the group of guards that gathered to talk about a football game that went down the night before.

"What do you want, Locke? Can't you see we're trying to talk?" Geary complained, trying to get rid of the inmate.

"Abruzzi's been cut! He's bleeding out in the shed!" Toby pointed, as the guards rushed to save a prisoner they were supposed to be keeping an eye on. Out of breath, Toby doubled over panting. After a few moments, he stood up straight, letting out a lung full of air.

"You just have a knack for being at the wrong place at the right time. Don'cha, Sunny?" Bagwell startled Toby, who nearly jumped out of his skin. "No matter, Paison will be outa time before they can git him to a hospital. Makes me wonder, though, would you a run ova' here that fast were it me lying in that tool shed? Hmm?"

Toby glanced at T-Bag and then back across the raked section of prison yard. "No, I thought not." The southerner chuckled, seemly unaffected by the realization. The shouts of an angry inmate, struggling in the arms of two guards as he was dragged toward the doors of the prison, interrupted the awkward silence stretching between Toby and T-bag. They turned to see one of the worst things two soon-to-be escapees could see. Lincoln Burrows was the man being dragged, meaning that he was going to be thrown in solitary detention.

PI was ended abruptly so they could land a helicopter in that part of the yard. Dr. Tancredi and the nurse were working as hard as they could to keep John Abruzzi alive. Toby knew he had to have lost a lot of blood, the way it was spilling out of him on the concrete floor. He and the rest of the crew stood at the fences watching with both avid fascination and intense fear. The man was turning very pale and the most the doc could do with her supplies was hold pressure on the wound and hope the copter got there in time.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, an incredible wind and sound pummeled the inmates standing watch. The helicopter touched down for barely a minute, as the dying mob boss was hoisted aboard. The sound of the spinning propellers, deafened out everything and they were too far away for Toby to read the lips of the doctors.

"And then there were seven." T-Bag leaned in between Toby and Sucre, ending the statement with a special smirk in Toby's direction. As though rubbing salt in a wound, the smile ruffled Toby's feathers.

"Far as I know, it's six." C-Note tilted his head back. Toby had to admit, things were looking pretty down on Lincoln getting out of here before his execution, if he was going to be stuck in solitary confinement for the rest of his time. Westmoreland had said that Burrows had to hit a guard to keep them out of the break room long enough to get Michael out of the hole and have it covered. The guy was getting fried in a few days and Toby was feeling a little faint. It would be impossible to get Michael to break them out without him, and even harder to break Burrows out of that kind of security.


	38. Chapter 38

Yard time later that day was just as stressful. Sucre tried to call the hospital but they refused to give him any information of the condition of Abruzzi. It was against protocol or something. All Toby knew was that Abruzzi was another key element to the escape that was gone. It was starting to look like he'd be spending the next ten years holding T-Bag's pocket. There was no way he could do that.

Michael sighed, rubbing his temples. If Toby felt stressed, he could only imagine how Scofield had to be feeling. The guy purposefully had himself sent here to break his brother out. He was not a criminal in the slightest bit. Serving his full sentence would be terrible, let alone the fact that if the warden found out about the escape each and every person involved out have another ten years tacked onto their bid.

"I wonder whatever happened to Abruzzi anyway?" T-Bag shifted his hips, giving Toby a look that said he better keep quiet or else. "Maybe them Mafia chickens came home to roost after all." He pondered aloud.

"We have to put this whole thing on hold." Michael rocked onto his heels.

"Whoa, wait a second, Fish. We're not putting nothing on hold." C-Note disagreed.

"I don't think you heard me." Scofield retorted, glaring at the other inmate. "Until I get my brother out of that hole, no one's doing a damn thing."

"God bless, Sink, but the man is gone. You go to the tombs, you don't get out. Not till they strap you up." Benjamin crossed his arms.

"If you think I am going to leave my brother behind you have Massively underestimated me." Scofield growled, taking a step closer to C-Note.

"Really?"

"Really." They glared at each other.

"That ain't my fight." Bagwell pushed himself off the fence, dragging Toby along by the pocket. "I'm through that hole, Pretty, with or without you. Next time I'm on PI."

"We're not having this debate." Michael looked off across the yard, his hands finding their way into his pockets.

"Why don't we open the floor and find out 'bout everybody else, huh? Let's see what they all say."

"We got a clear shot, baby. Every day we don't use that hole's another day the screws can find it." C-Note added.

"The way is not finished." Michael looks at everyone, frustrated that they were backing him into a corner.

"A key to the Infirmary. That's all we need." T-Bag whispered excitedly. "Through that window. Over that wire. Over that wall."

"The two of you, will never make it." Michael smirked.

"Three, if you count Sunny." T-Bag smiled right back.

"Oh, Fish, it's not just us neither." C-Note shifted, nodding to Westmoreland and Sucre behind the mastermind.

"If it's now or never, we got to go." Westmoreland reluctantly agreed. "Go with us Michael. You've done everything you could."

"They're grown men, Michael, they can decide for themselves." T-Bag chided.

"You son of a bitch." Scofield shoved the southerner against the fence, knocking Toby out of the way.

"Hey! All of you, separate!" Guards yelled from the other side of the metal. Officer Stolte ran over, pulling his club from his belt.

"It's good boss, it's good. Just playing around." C-Note smiled, letting Stolte turn around and head back to the cluster of guards. Then he returned to the conversation; "Ya know, there are two things that everybody needs to get with here. First, Hillbilly you have got to learn some respect. Man here, made everything possible." C-note pointed out, moving from Bagwell to Scofield. "And you, Fish, you're going to have to get with that we are doing this thing this afternoon as soon as we get on PI." At that, Michael smiled and shook his head.

"So you're just going to make a run for it. In the middle of the day." He scolded them like children. Toby shifted, uncomfortable with the situation.

"You got to do, what you got to do, huh, baby?" C-Note shrugged.

"You are going to screw this whole thing up..." Michael scratched his head.

"That's not for you to decide anymore." The dark man laughed. "And this train is leaving the station and I suggest you get on it."

"Get on the train, Fish, get on the train.." T-Bag chanted, leaning over C-Note's shoulder.

"Well, you know what, you sons of bitches. I won't let you do it." Michael stood firm.

"What you goin' do? Blow the whistle on your own escape?" Bagwell lifted an eyebrow as Michael stormed off.

"He'll be back." C-Note walked off as well. The rest of the group disbanded shortly after. Toby and Bagwell stood a moment longer than the rest.

"You know it's fucked up to jack Scofield's plan away from him like that." Toby finally spoke.

"I didn't hear you talkin' during all that." T-Bag put a hand on the fence turning slightly toward Toby. "Had something to say, you should'a said it." He bit his lip lightly. Toby looked at his boots, unable to meet Bagwell's icy gaze. After a second, T-Bag patted Toby's cheek and turned to face the rest of the yard, pulling the fabric of his pocket out for the younger man to take. "You and I, we're through that hole tomorrow. Ain't nothing you can do about it."

Toby raked his fingers through his hair before finally taking hold of the pocket. Bagwell ambled across the grass to join the Purity at the bleachers. They weren't doing anything knew, just complaining about the so-called 'niggers' and 'spics'. Toby could never understand how they could believe any one skin tone was better than the others. He looked at it as though everyone were eggs. Some had light shells, others had dark, but when you cracked them open they all had the same shit inside them. Racism was nothing more to Toby than ignorance. Pure ignorance. Having to sit there and listen to mumblings of modern cavemen was a punishment all on its own, let alone having to share a cell with their king.

At least when they were on the bleachers, Bagwell completely ignored Toby's existence. He felt as though he became part of the background, like a piece of furniture, while the southerner conducted business. With Trokey down and out, they'd been having some trouble with their part of the drug trade. That meant they'd have less money to purchase boy's for the rest of the men.

"Wouldn't need to worry about it, T, if you'd let us sample Sunny?" Toby stiffened beside Bagwell, gripping the man's pocket like a lifeline. The gangbang scenario racing through his head like a runaway train.

"Now, y'all know I don't share my toys. 'N you better watch your tongue, Shiv. Might wake up to find one of your own works imbedded in your gullet." T-Bag warned, a sinister undertone rumbling beneath his words. Toby didn't feel relaxed by them, though. Instead, he saw the anger and pent-up sexual frustration on the faces surrounding him. In the eyes of each man, he found a dangerous fantasy. They must have been lower on funds than they were letting on, if these men had not raped another inmate for so long that they'd consider betraying T-Bag to get some. Hell they might lead an all out revolt, for the intensity Toby saw in their faces was fleeting but terrifying.

"Line 'em up!" Bellick yelled from the gates, looping his thumbs under edge of belt. Toby couldn't remember a time he had ever been so happy to hear that guard's voice. T-Bag glared at Shiv for a couple more seconds before finally rising. The older man draped his arm over Toby's shoulders; clearly sending a sign to his crew as he led the boy toward the lines heading indoors. Toby wanted so badly to brush the man off, but knew that he couldn't do that with the Purity following behind them. His need for personal space would come second to his need to continue breathing.

Once inside their cell, Toby pulled away from Bagwell's awkward embrace. Shuffling to the back of the cell, Toby took a piss and washed his hands. As he turned around, he found Bagwell eyeing him closely.

"You know, you should be showing me some appreciation, Sunny." His tongue flicked out, rolling along his lip.

"For what exactly? Would that be for the various forms of abuse I take from you?" Toby snapped, knowing exactly what T-Bag was getting at.

"That'd be for not throwing you to the wolves, my boy." Bagwell leaned forward, his rancid breath caressing Toby's face. "Ya oughta be pretty thankful for that."

Toby looked away, not wanting to admit that he was glad T-Bag was selfish with him. "Yeah, sure, whatever. Thanks." Toby scoffed, secretly meaning it. The older man straightened, cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders.

"That's more like it. Now, make like a good pet and do what you do best, Sunny..." T-Bag breathed his nickname in a way that made Toby's skin crawl.

"Can you not make me do this right now, with all the lights on and stuff." Toby gnawed at the inside of his lip. Bagwell just smiled and fell into his bunk, kicking his boots off.

"Ya always know just what to say. Tell ya what, I'll give ya till lights out, boy." He sighed, resting his head back on his hands. "But you better be more than willing when the time comes." Toby let out a sigh of his own, though his was a little more anxious than Bagwell's. Squaring his shoulders, Toby moved to the front of his cell. He wanted to see Charles, but he was on the same side of the block. Instead Toby settled on watching Sucre, who was sitting on his bunk, twiddling his thumbs. He looked as stressed and worried as Toby felt. Tomorrow was the day. You either went down the rabbit hole or you stayed behind. Neither seemed like the right answer, at this point.

Toby knew they would be caught if they tried to do it without Scofield, but knew he would be doing just as bad were he to stay and be part of the blame for the escape attempt. He couldn't stay here. His daughter was out there and he needed to get to her. Being inside these walls was changing him and not for the better. Toby was feeling angry, violent. He was being beaten and raped on a daily basis, each day bringing him closer and closer to going off the edge. If he didn't get out now, he would kill someone, most likely T-Bag, and he would be spending the rest of his life here because of it.  
Sucre slid off of his bunk, apparently talking to Michael. Toby could tell by the look on his face that he was fighting with himself over whatever it was he was saying. Assuming that the hispanic man's thoughts were similar to his own, Toby figured he was letting Scofield know that he had to get out of here. That he was leaving tomorrow, and he hoped Michael did the same.


	39. Chapter 39

Toby still clung to the bars as the lights were shut down. A yellowish glow tinted the block as only a single row of emergency lighting remained. It was haunting, like lonely street lights in a bad part of town. It reminded Toby of the night he robbed the Photomat. The lights on the nearly empty side streets had glowed so dimly, making Toby feel like vermin scuttling in the darkness. He should have listened to his gut and turned around when he'd had the chance. However, now was no time to be thinking back to such horrid times; not when there were so many dangers to be dealt with here.

Toby rubbed his palm tiredly down his face, turning away from the bars. He slunk to the back of the cell, his bladder commanding some relief. From behind him, he heard Bagwell shift and his stomach clenched painfully in his abdomen, twisting and turning. Toby knew what was soon to happen, he had been given till lights out and here it was, but that didn't stop Toby from feeling like he did. In fact the anticipation had been a torment that whole evening. Toby had forced the thoughts of Bagwell to the back of his mind, but now they returned with a vengeance.

The young man shook slightly as he returned his member to his trousers and flushed. Toby turned to face his monster, finding Bagwell to be standing at the end of the bunks, leering suggestively a mere foot away. "Why don't you let down the sheet, Sunny?" T-Bag sighed, his eyes trailing over the smaller man.  
Toby closed his eyes, taking a second to calm his nerves. He nodded, squeezing around the predator and slowly making his way back to the front of the cell. He blew his breathe out slowly, a cold fear brewing in his stomach. Toby let the blanket fall and it brushed against his face, as if the object were trying to comfort him despite its role in his suffering. Toby's world grew dark and shadowy, the yellowish light faded once again through the prison sheet. He pulled his t-shirt over his head, turning around to face the evil.

T-Bag stood in the middle of the room, taking in everything that Toby did. As though he could read the young man's mind through his body language, he sidestepped out of Toby's path to the bunk. Toby dropped his shirt, not caring where it landed and perched on the edge of the bunk to remove his boots. He felt like lead. He felt trapped. His heart thundered in his chest and in his ears, his body buzzing with fear, but he didn't fight and he didn't run. He just dropped his boots to the pavement and resigned himself to being raped. He was out of here tomorrow, he chanted in his head. He would only deal with this one last time and tomorrow he would be gone. He'd escape prison and then escape Bagwell. He'd finally be free and he'd go to California in a heartbeat and he'd hold his little girl to his chest once again, never to let her go. Everything was going to be alright, he just had to do what T-Bag wanted.

Toby stood, beginning to remove his trousers as his mind pled for him to stop. "Come here, boy." T-Bag's voice was low and full of want. Toby's head jerked up, his eyes launching from there stare at the ground to the disgusting lust in Bagwell's face. He wanted to deny, to stay where he stood and keep the safe distance between them, but he couldn't anger the rapist. Not tonight, with everything riding on PI tomorrow. Toby let his hands dropped to his side, the top button of his pants opened. He chewed on the inside of his lips, dragging himself toward T-Bag. The man smiled, sickly sweet and full of poison. It was going to kill Toby one day.

Bagwell pulled Toby into a rough embrace, forcing him into the older man's body. He smashed their mouths together, taking advantage of Toby's surprise. Propelling them to side, the pedophile sandwiched the boy against the wall. His arms still wrapped around him, denying him the ability to squirmed out of the way. Toby's arms were trapped awkwardly between the two bodies, he felt T-Bag's heart thud away, excited. Their hips ground against each other, with the momentum of them falling against the stone.

Toby struggled and squirmed, his body pained, but this only aroused Bagwell more. He rubbed harder against the smaller man, his tongue devouring Toby's mouth. Toby tried to block him out, but the sensation of his warmth against Toby's crotch pulled a moan from his lips. His body reacted to the touch, hardening with each hump against it. T-Bag chortled into Toby's mouth, feeling the young man's arousal. His arms unwound themselves from his toy, free to roam his body instead. They started at his ribs and worked their way down, T-Bag pulled at Toby's zipper, allowing the pants to fall from his fingers and pool around the boy's ankles.

"Your turn, Sunny." T-Bag broke away from the kiss, breathing hard. Toby's lips felt swollen from the ferocity of Bagwell's mouth. His mind swimming with arousal. T-Bag shifted back, allowing the young man's hands to escape. Toby's fingers gently pulled the t-shirt from his tormentor's torso. Through lust addled eyes, he took in the wiry muscle before him, but his mind roared. Inner Toby, fighting against the drug of pleasure, screamed of the pain and the shame and the embarrassment. But the fire inside him crackled louder than his conscience.

His fingers fumbled over the button of Bagwell's trousers, the fabric strained with the pressure of the man's insistent erection. Finally, the boy completed his task but before he could push the pants from T-Bag's hips his hands were stopped. Toby whipped his head up, afraid he had done something wrong. That he had somehow angered T-bag anyway, but found the man's lopsided grin and lust hooded eyes remained. Bagwell chuckled in his throat, leading Toby's hand inside his trousers to press against his throbbing member.

Toby tried to pull away, fear replacing pleasure, as his hands brushed against the weapon. Bagwell's grip tightened, shooting pain up Toby's wrists. The smile faded from his face, "You don't want to me to have to force you, Sunny." His voice took on a steely quality. Toby turned his face away from Bagwell's, afraid to see the anger there that threatened to snap into action. Toby dragged in a shaky breath shaking his head.

"No, I don't." He whispered through clenched teeth. He reluctantly pushed his hands into the pedophile's pants. The man rested his head on Toby's shoulder, his hips thrusting to meet the young man's trembling fingers. Toby's knees felt weak. He pressed his chin to his other shoulder, feeling nauseous. Bagwell's mouth danced along the younger man's neck.

"That's more like it..." He purred into his boy's ear. Suddenly Toby's legs gave out and he slid roughly to the ground. His back slid painfully along the concrete wall. T-Bag followed him down, pulling the two away from the wall. Crouching over Toby, he removed the younger man's hand from his pelvis. Bagwell slid two of the boy's fingers into his mouth, sucking lightly and rolling his tongue around them for a few seconds. Toby's erection returned to full force, he could not deny that the southerner knew how to tease. "Prepare yourself." He ordered, tossing Toby's hand down to rise and remove his remaining clothing.

Toby stared at his slopping wet fingers, startled and disgusted by the idea of putting them inside him. His body hummed with a need that couldn't be ignored, the fact that it was Bagwell that would be his outlet frightened him to no end but he did as he was told. Boxers removed, he gingerly pushed one finger in. Slicked with Bagwell's spit, it didn't hurt. Nor did it spark the fire that his body desperately desired. Shortly he added the second, wincing slightly as he stretched himself. T-Bag returned naked to the cold floor, his sick lopsided smile hovering over Toby.

Without a word, he twisted Toby onto his stomach. Toby's breath quickened and his chest felt tight as though a band had been wrapped around it. Bagwell lifted the small man's hips to meet his own. He enjoyed watching his toy struggle between the arousal and fear that T-Bag presented. Toby gasped, laying his head down on his fists, as Bagwell thrust inside him. The pain shook him and he gritted his teeth. It wasn't all consuming as before, but it was definitely still vivid. The predator shifted, angling his hips to hit the sweet spot. His actions were met with an immediate response. Toby's back arched in pleasure, heat rolling in his abdomen. The young man strangled a moan in his throat, fighting for any shred of dignity he had left in him, even as he unraveled under his nightmare's fingertips.

T-Bag slid his hands across the sweat slicked flesh of his toy to wrap snugly around his middle. He pulled Toby up, chest to back, the older man panted into his hair. The new position drew lusty whimpers from the young man's rosebud lips. Bagwell smirked, dragging his hands up and along the planes of Toby's chest, feeling to faint clench around his dick when fingers grazed nipple. "Admit you want fucked, Sunny. Tell me how much you like it..." He purred, sucking lightly on the small man's ear.

"N-nuh uh.." Toby ground out, finding that words were hard to come by when his mind was filled with pleasure. Even so, his little remnants of pride did not want to voice the burning need inside him.

"Suit yourself..." T-Bag's voice grew hard, as did his hands. In a mere moment, Toby was forced to the ground. One hand pulled behind his back and his face smashed against the concrete. Panic surged in his little body, cold and powerful, as Bagwell's thrusts became brutal. He struggled, his free hand gripping a wrist above his head.

"Okay, okay. I want it! Alright?! I want you to fuck me, T-Bag." The words fell from Toby's lips as he squirmed in both pain and fear. He whined and whimpered, his arm threatening to be pulled from its socket. Bagwell chuckled, releasing the hold on the younger man's arm. He leaned forward, relaxing his body against Toby's.

"That's my boy..." He sighed, driving his dick deep. Toby squeezed his eyes tightly shut, a tear finding its way out despite his efforts. Bagwell pounded into him, the force grinding him against the floor. Though cold and rough, Toby found the feeling enjoyable against his erection. He was disgusted with himself, but he didn't try to deny the pleasure coursing in his veins. His whimpers turned to soft sighs. His rag-doll body coming to life below his tormentor. Each thrust met with its counter movement, driving the young man to the brink. He lowered his hand to his throbbing dick, letting Bagwell's thrusts bring him relief.

T-bag straightened, cumming inside the writhing boy. Satisfied, he pulled out and patted Toby's quivering hip with a breathy laugh. Toby lay there, on the cusp of his own release but left wanting. He sighed, frustrated and tired. T-Bag hummed to himself, redressing behind Toby. The heat of the previous minutes dying away, Toby was overcome with embarrassment. He'd openly admitted his need, wordlessly begged for his own little slice of satisfaction, and he'd been denied. He's body used and dumped again. Though he should have expected it, Toby couldn't help but feel betrayed. The feeling of betrayal confused him more than his body's reaction to Bagwell. More so, it scared him.

Pain, fear, shame...those were the things T-Bag brought. Arousal and hurt? That was not supposed to happen. Toby slowly sat up, grabbing his clothing. He redressed, feeling sick to his stomach. Toby felt weak. In enjoying the bastard's attention, his touch, it felt like he'd given up who he was...like he'd become the little prison bitch everyone saw him as. Once in his bunk, he curled into a little ball, waiting for the painful blue balls to set in. He could easily rid himself of the pain, if he'd masterbate, but he needed to punish himself. Besides it'd be the death of him to have T-Bag right below him listening, knowing he was the reason.


	40. Chapter 40

**AN: Whoa guys. Look at that. Chapter 40. 40! How is this possible? Lol :D Actually, it's kind of weird. Like for all of this writing we are only to the first break out attempt. Oh, snap. Lol...That's not even half way...I think. Whatever. Anyway :) Hope you guys enjoy the chapter!**

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The next day Toby paced inside his cell, his heart threatening to break free from his ribs. It pounded loud in his ears, adrenalin and worry filling his veins instead of the blood that should have been there. T-Bag sat on the edge of his bunk, following Toby with his eyes. The sore younger man, still embarrassed by his actions the previous night tried to ignore the vigilant presence, choosing instead to lose himself in the anxiety of the escape.

"Better quit that pacing, Sunny. You're gonna wear a hole in our cell before we can get to the one that leads outa here." He chortled, looking so relaxed and ready for whatever was going to come. Toby stopped moving, but his mind went even faster. It ran through every way he could come up with for this day to end. Most of those endings weren't good for Toby and that was driving him mad. He pulled his hands through his hair for what had to be the millionth time that day. If PI didn't get here soon, he'd be bald. Though, that might help him not be recognized on the outside. Toby laughed at himself, his hands were sweating like the first date he had with Janice. She had been so beautiful.

He could see that summer sundress even now. It was yellow with little flowers printed all over it. Her pale olive skin looked so soft, her arms barely covered in a half sleeve, lace jacket thing. Toby had never seen a more beautiful girl. They were only sixteen, but Toby had known in that moment that he had found the woman of his dreams and he would do anything to keep her. Anna was growing up to look so much like her it was scary. There were little bits of himself that he could see in his daughter, but the whole was so Janice. His little girl was going to be a knock out one day and he would have such a hard time keeping the boys away from her.

"PI! Let's do it!" Bellick hollered as the buzzers sounded, releasing the inmates from their cells. Toby felt frozen to the spot. Here it was, the moment they had all been waiting for. He couldn't believe he might get of there that day. T-Bag shoved him out of the cell.

"What? Ya pace all day and suddenly you can't move. Get outa my way, Sunny." He growled, stepping around the stumbling man. Toby grabbed hold of a beam, stabilizing himself. Then he fell into step with the rest of the PI crew. The expressions on each face were a mix of apprehension and excitement. Worry and fear and hope. They were marching toward destiny and Toby just hoped it was smiling on them. T-Bag sauntered a little faster, catching up to Michael with what Toby could only assume was a jeer, an I-knew-you-would-change-your-mind kind of thing. Scofield just continued walking, refusing to even acknowledge Bagwell's existence.

Toby wished that the monster really didn't exist. He couldn't imagine loosing the villain on the free world again. He had killed so many people before he was caught. He would do the same this time and it looked like the bastard wanted to drag Toby down with him. Toby couldn't let that happen. He had to get to his daughter. She was all that mattered in this world and he would make it there. All he had to do was take his first chance and ditch the group, especially T-Bag, once they were out of here.

"So, Mr. Pied Piper, what's the play?" T-Bag drawled, pulling at chunks of the last wall they needed to replace.

"Same as always. Pretend to be working, being model citizens, until the time comes." Michael compacted rubble behind the drywall.  
"And, that'd be?" Bagwell pryed. Toby lowered his paint brush, just as curious as his tormentor as to when they would be flying the coop.  
"Nine o'clock." Michael sighed, never looking away from the wall.

"PI shuts down at five, though." Toby chimed in, turning his back to the wall.

"Then we have to make sure it doesn't, don't we." Scofield snapped at Toby. The small man's mouth dropped open. He hadn't meant to piss Michael off. He was just saying; it did seem as though the man had forgotten that they couldn't be in there that long. Springing into action, Michael chucked his crowbar into the wheelbarrow. Toby could almost see the ideas bouncing around in his head as he shifted about the room, staring at the drywall. "Toby, give me a hand and grab that hammer."

"Uh, sure?" Tobias grabbed the closest hammer he could find and trudged over to the perplexing mastermind. Michael nodded, tapping a square of board.  
"Pull the nails out, gently." He warned. Toby eased the back end of the hammer under the metal spikes, prying them from the wall. Then he and Michael lowered the drywall to the floor, along with the insulation. Behind the layers, a vertical pipe was revealed. Toby stared at it not sure what he was supposed to be seeing. Michael reached out, lightly twisting a place where the metal joined, nodding to himself. "Hand me the hammer."

Before Toby could move out of the way, Scofield struck the pipe. He hit at it again and again, until finally the two pieces slid apart and water sprayed everywhere.

"What the hell are you doing man?!" C-Note shouted from the middle of the room. Toby threw his hands in front of his face, trying his best to clear his vision. After a minute or two, the stream eased but the room was utterly drenched. That included the inmates inside it. Toby was waterlogged. He felt soggy and disgusting, his hair plastered his forehead and over his eyes.

Next thing they knew, they were all sitting on the ground like children being scolded in elementary school. Only, this was prison and they were grown men being yelled at by a very pissed of Bellick. "What the hell happened here?!" He growled.

"Messed up. Hit a pipe." Michael reported like it was yesterday's news. "Should have killed the water before we started." Toby shook his head, playing like he was disappointed in them all.

"Should'a, huh?" The badge glared down on them.

"It's not that big a deal. We can fix it in the morning." Michael shrugged, resting his hands on his bent knees. "I don't think mold should be a problem before then."

"Mold?" Bellick adjusted his cap.

"Scofield, shut up man." C-Noted hissed, like the fabled mold were a real issue. Toby had to admit, it was fun pulling the wool over the vicious Bellick's eyes. He was proud of their performance so far.

"No, you shut up. What are you talking about Scofield?" Bellick started to get worried.

"You get drywall and insulation soaked like this, you run the risk of stachybotrys mold." Toby was almost positive the guy made up the name on the spot, but it sounded real and dangerous.

"Yo, Boss, that's just like one time in a thousand, for real." C-Note brushed it off.

"Tell you what, you and all your companeros here, aren't stepping out of this door till every damn molecule of water is out of this place." Everyone groaned and complained in unison. Toby smacked at some rubble on the ground, knocking it safely behind a bucket and out of sight.

"That's going to take all night!" Sucre whined.

"Well, then it's going to take all night." Bellick rubbed it in, turning to leave the room. "Don't catch a sniffle." He smirked, slamming the door behind the last guard. Toby broke into a smile. He didn't actually think that could work, but they had pulled it off. Hell, maybe instead of crime they all should have gone into acting. Toby pulled himself to his feet, wringing out his suit as best he could.

"Stop bein' such a priss, Sunny. It's just a bit a water." T-Bag shook Toby's shoulder lightly, smiling ear to ear. Toby's happy mood slid away as Bagwell's hand slid down his back. T-Bag bit his lip, enjoying the feel of Toby's solid body just millimeters below the sopping cloth. "Here we go..." He purred into the boy's ear. He was right. It had started, there was no turning back, no other opportunity to take than this.

Toby pressed himself into a corner, feeling safer with the drywall against him rather than Bagwell. The man seemed to have made it his mission to make the hours of waiting as long as possible for Toby. Even with the walls protecting Toby's body, Bagwell sat next to him, whispering horrendous things for the younger man's ears only. He described in horrific details the things he had done to those kids back in Alabama. He smiled and reminisced the days when he used to be out in the real world and all the pain and anguish he caused. T-Bag had a way with words and the way his accent lilted his voice only helped to chill Toby to the bone. His mind forged ahead without his consent, visualizing the scenes Bagwell laid out for him.

"Nine o'clock, Fish. Show time." C-Note rose to his feet. Toby released a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, following C-Note and Bagwell to the middle of the room. Michael closed his eyes, taking a breath to steady his nerves before joining the rest of the group. Toby looked around at all the men he was escaping with, it was a crazy ensemble to say the least. Then he bent down and grabbed the rug, rolling it to the side with the help of Charles. C-Note moved the board, while T-Bag took the time to slide a crowbar through the door handle, wedging it shut. A wild excitement shown bright in every pair of eyes standing around the hole.

"See you on the other side." Michael nodded, before lowering himself into the black abyss. One by one they dropped into the hole; Sucre, then T-Bag, Toby, C-Note, and finally Westmoreland. The tunnels beneath the prison were tiny, causing even Toby to crouch awkwardly in them. They waddled like penguins, following Michael through the maze of concrete.

"Your boys better be there, Rughead" Bagwell hissed, following the leaders down a declining tunnel. Toby hesitated a second before throwing himself down as well.

"They'll be there, Cletus, don't you worry." C-Note grinned, not able to be bothered by the racism when he was minutes away from freedom. Toby rolled out of the end of the slide, knocking into T-Bag who caught him in an uncomfortable embrace as the young man's face slid against the other's hip. Bagwell giggled, helping Toby to his feet with a sultry wink. Toby pushed away from him, a look of disgust coming over him. Noticing Michael was nowhere to be seen, the young man began to panic but then noticed a wiggling bit of rope hanging in the middle of the square they stood in. Following that rope up, he saw a shaking Michael. The man must have been good at gym class because he reached the top in no time, sweaty and tired and shaking, but he made it. From the bottom, Toby saw him crawl through the grated covering and into whatever room that was. Seconds later he returned.

"Okay. Let's go!" He called in a hoarse whisper that echoed in the deep chamber. Being the smallest Toby ascended next. It was harder than he remembered it being back in middle school. His breathing was labored before he finished the first third, but eventually he did get to the top. Pulling himself over the edge, he realized they were in a storage closet. Of all places to have that kind of a storm drain thing, a closet was where they put it. The design of this prison was ridiculous, even to a layman like Toby. He moved aside, helping the others out as they came up. Finally Westmoreland was through and they were ready to move on. Toby looked to Michael, his smile slipping from his face.

"They replaced it." Scofield uttered in disbelief.

"Replaced what?" Toby was confused, looking into the corner he saw a brand new steel vent.

"I had it rusted out so we could get up into the infirmary. They, they replaced it." He explained, moving to touch the new obstacle. His fingers shook, hovering over the metal as though it weren't real as long as he didn't touch it. From overhead, muffled through the steel, Toby could hear Lincoln calling his brother's name. "He's there." Scofield whispered.

He gripped the pipe, pulling with all his strength. He shook it, he put all his weight on it, but it didn't budge. Charles handed up a metal bar from somewhere in the room, hoping Michael could pry the thing apart if he had the right leverage. Toby climbed the storage shelving, adding his weight to the bar. The taller inmates did so as well from the ground.

"Shhh, shh!" T-Bag warned, pressing himself against the frosted window door. Toby listened carefully, freezing in his position. From the hallway you could hear a set of keys jingle quietly to the footsteps of a guard walking their way. T-Bag flipped around, his back to the wall beside the door. His eyes wide and locked with Toby's as they both held their breath, praying that the pig continued on his merry way. Bagwell tilted his head toward the door, listening as the sound of keys began to grow softer. Looking back toward Michael, he gave a short nod and the group began again to pry at the pipe.

Suddenly the bar gave way and Toby fell to the floor with a thud, the half of the pipe not held by Michael clattering loudly beside him.

"What? Talk to me." Sucre pleaded, as Michael palmed the underside of the steel vent.

"It can't be done." He whispered, defeated. "It's too thick. I'm so sorry." Toby knew the last bit was more to his brother, pounding at the other side of the metal with something, but he took comfort in it as well. "We're not getting out of here." He finally lowered himself back to the floor.


	41. Chapter 41

**A little treat for y'all. A good part of me wanted to wait till I had more written, writer's block and all, but I felt that you guys deserved to be able to read through the second part of the escape attempt. I am going to try and pound out some more chapters but I'm not sure how long it'll take for me to get back on the horse. Feel free to pester me. Message the crap out of me, if you'd like. :) My life has been getting in the way of my writing lately, but I want you guys to know that I am thinking of you. Frequently. In dirty positions ;D lol, Anyway. Catch ya soon.**

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"Unfortunately, Pretty, that ain't an option." T-Bag pulled a shank from his boot. Toby froze on his ass barely a foot away from the desperate southerner. The man seemed to make weapons materialize out of thin air. "You are gonna get us outa here." He hissed.

"Unless you are going to use your shank to take out the pipe, put it away." Michael rested his head against the metal shelving unit.

"I'm gonna put it in your neck if you don't get us outa here." He twisted the blade in his palm.

"Bring it down a peg, T-Bag." Sucre warned, his body tense and ready to fight if he had to.

"Shut your mouth." Bagwell aimed the blade at the hispanic man.

"Remember, Pretty, I am serving life plus one...so if get caught for attempted escape, I'm gonna throw in a homicide. That's like a parking ticket to me." He waved the blade before him. Toby watched it dance barely above his head.

"Come on T-Bag, cut it out..." Toby lurched, to face the door as keys jingled on the other side. "We have to disappear!" He whispered, launching off the ground and behind one of the shelves. Bagwell appeared beside him, pressing them both against the wall, his hand over Toby's mouth. T-Bag cocked his head to the side, listening to the guard enter the room. Even though Toby was terrified of the guard, his attention was split. Part of him was squirming to get away from the body pressed against his, the other holding him perfectly still so as to not draw the badge's attention. The man had turned to leave when he noticed the fallen half of the pipe lying forgotten in the middle of the room. Toby cursed himself for not grabbing it.

"Hey, Keith, come check this out!" He shouted. After a second he set the pipe down on some boxes, heading back into the hall. "Keith?" As soon as he entered the hallway the inmates leapt into action.

"We got to go. Now." Westmoreland rushed to look out the door. "Give me the rope." He pulled the grate aside again. He handed one end to T-Bag, ordering him to tie it off on one of the legs of a metal shelf. Then he lowered himself into the drain. Toby shuffled nervously from the door to the rope, checking to see if the next person was done. Finally, C-Note and Bagwell had reached the bottom. Toby rushed for the opening, gripping the rope tightly in his sweaty hands, he slid into the darkness.

The rope burned his palms as he hurtled toward the floor. He'd barely gripped the fibers in enough time to keep from killing himself. Despite the pain in his hands, he had made it down in record time. Sucre made it all the way down without incident, but Michael clung to the rope, awkwardly moving the grate back into place. He hung there for what seemed like ages. Listening to the guards above him, trying to figure out where the busted metal bar came from. There voices echoed down to the men below. Toby stood, watching Scofield as the others brushed past him and into the tunnels. Finally Michael landed on the concrete, pulling the rope down with him. Then they too rushed into the maze, hurrying to get to the room before the guards returned. Had they not already.

Most of the team had already pulled themselves up, leaving Toby and Westmoreland to surface. Toby jumped, gripping the bottom of their digging in this section of tunnel. He laboredly pulled himself up, to grab ahold of the hands reaching down.

"Westmoreland, come on!" They prodded. Eagerly awaiting the old man. Toby circled the hole, nervously pacing. "Come one, come on, come on.." The door shook behind Toby, an angry guard hollering on the other side. Toby cursed, grabbing the board and placing it over the hole as Charles finally showed up beneath it. It had to be the quickest cover up they'd done yet. The crowbar slid out of the jam, clattering on the concrete as the door finally opened. The bull that charged through that door was beyond pissed and more than a little suspicious.

"Why was this door locked?!" Bellick roared. The inmates shifted around like ants under a magnifying glass on a sunny day.

"It wasn't locked!" T-Bag covered. "The fan kept pushing it open, so we just had to wedge it, uh, closed." That was weak even for him. Toby raked his fingers through his water knotted hair.

"You been in here all night not doing a damn thing." Bellick accused.

"The room was still wet, Boss. There was nothing we could do." Sucre justified them, while they all nodded like bobble heads. "It's not like we were having a picnic."

"Bunch of shiftless, no good, convicts." The badge sneered. Michael walked to the head of the bunch, tossing another crowbar on the table angrily. "You got something to say, Scofield?" He paused, as Michael only stared. "Then wrap it up and all five of ya, get your asses back to the block." He turned, shutting the door behind him. Toby let out a sigh of relief, before rushing to pull back the carpet to let Charles out of the hole. He climbed out dusting himself off, as Bagwell and C-Note repositioned the carpet and board. Toby ran about the room grabbing the tools they'd left lying around. The door swung open again, halting Toby in his tracks with two arms full of tools.

"You seem to be one light." Bellick stomped back into the room. Toby looked back at the other inmates like a deer in the headlights, to find Charles bent down tying his shoe.

"Right here, Boss." He stood, pretending to be skipped over. Toby whipped his head back around to face the bulldog of a guard. He glared a second longer before leaving for what Toby hoped to be the last time. After a beat, he started to laugh. He couldn't explain why. His dreams of freedom had been dashed, they'd almost been caught more than once on this escapade, and he'd be spending the next decade with Theodore Bagwell, but in that moment, Toby just laughed. He dropped the tools into the wheelbarrow and just shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips.


	42. Chapter 42

**AN: Sorry about being gone for so long. I am stealing wifi from the neighbors and I keep getting kicked out. I think they are on to me. Lol. Anyway, because I do all my writing online (I know, bad idea) I haven't gotten much done on Toby's story. However, because I love you guys so much and am so terrribly sorry about leaving you all hanging, I am going to post multiple chapters today. This will effectively put you guys as far into Toby's life as I am at the moment. So enjoy :)**

**AN: Oh yeah, and I own nothing of Prison Break.**

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T-Bag was furious. He was seething with quiet anger, burning holes in the back of Micheal's head with his glare as they were led to their cells. Toby chewed on the inside of his lip, nervously watching his tormentor for signs of that shiv. He had no idea where it had gone. That was one of the scariest things about T-Bag; you never knew what he was carrying. With fingers itching to wring Scofield's neck, Bagwell broke formation as soon as they entered the dark and nearly silent block.

"You owe me a way out of here, Pretty." He growled, cutting Michael off as he stepped around him to enter his domain. Toby filed in behind, keeping his distance of the violent predator the whole way there. Bagwell paced like a caged animal, waiting for Toby to enter and the bars to slide shut. "That boy has screwed us over royally, Sunny, and you don't seem all that bothered. Why is that? Huh?" He halted, eying Toby's back as he washed the grime from his face.

"I am bothered, T-Bag. It fucking sucks and..."Toby paused, feeling awkward talking to Bagwell in such an open way. Water dripping from his lips as he spoke. "But, there isn't a thing I can do about it." In reality, he was pissed and he was stressed. Micheal's plan had fallen through. All the work he'd done was for not, all the pain he'd been through as well. He just couldn't bring himself to talk feelings with T-Bag. Turning off the tap Toby turned to face the pedophile, knowing that he wouldn't be done with this conversation. Bagwell leaned against the wall, disappointed and frustrated. Toby would be out of here in a decade, but without an escape T-Bag was never going to see outside of the prison walls again.

"Maybe you can't do a thing...but Pretty can. He's got too much riding on that to not have a back up plan..." Bagwell glanced behind him; the darkness in Scofield's cell denying him access to their sleeping forms. "Let's make a deal." His eyes returned to Toby, a wicked gleam shone in them despite the shadows. Immediately Toby felt a shiver of terror spin down his spinal column. Being a pawn in T-Bag's plans never worked in Toby's favor, especially the last time they struck a deal. His day of 'freedom' hadn't been worth what he'd given to get it. Toby knew he'd get the short end of the stick on this one as well.

"W-What do you have in mind?" The young man stuttered, not in the least bit interested in what Bagwell was going to say. Even if Michael had another plan, whatever this monster wanted Toby to do would most likely backfire and cause a lot of pain. Odds are that pain would land on Toby. It always seemed to work out that way. In the wakes of Toby's thoughts a smirk grew upon Bagwell's face, full of wicked cunning.

"I need you to figure out Pretty's next move. I'll give you the space you need to do it, too. No pocket, no Purity. I'll be keeping a close eye on you, keeping you out of trouble as you have a knack for finding it." He laughed at Toby's expense, who honestly couldn't deny the statement. He and trouble almost went hand in hand. It followed him everywhere he went.

"Space. That's my pay off? You want me to play snitch on that man in return for space. Are you joking?" Toby dragged a hand through his hair, too tired for a conversation like this. He could barely keep his eyes open, having exhausted himself with all of the running and climbing and prying at the vent. He was bushed and bartering with Bagwell was not on the top of his list.

"Fine, fine," T-Bag waved off his complaints. "I see your point. What do ya want in return, Sunny?" A sinister quality crept into his voice and his head tilted down, giving him a very dangerous look. Toby gulped; he hadn't actually come up with a counter offer. He just didn't want to do it at all. He wasn't a snitch, nor a spy. Bagwell didn't care. Toby was an end to a means and he would do as he was told, or else.

"Just give it up, T-Bag. It failed and his brother is going to fry. Without Big Brother he won't have a reason to escape...so just stop already." Toby sighed, dragging his fingers through his hair again. Terrified of the brutal response he was sure to get, but knowing there was nothing he could do. A dark look swept over T-Bag's face.

"That is a matter of opinion. And one I did not request to be heard, Sunny." He growled. Bagwell sauntered up to Toby, patting him almost tenderly on the cheek. "You are gonna see what that man is up to...and it was kind of me to give you something in return. However, you have spit in the face of that kindness and thusly, your options and 'space' are gone, boy." The small man grimaced, turning his face away from the hand. Unaffected, T-Bag merely smirked, sliding in beside his boy. Toby started to panic when he heard the zipper pull; however a second later, with the familiar sound of piss, he inwardly mocked himself. He shook his head, quietly climbing up into his bunk to finally drift off into sleep after a long, disheartening day.

As T-Bag finished and tucked himself away, the predator spun and walked around the edge of the bed. His eyes level with those of Toby, cowering in his blankets. "My bunk, Sunny. And I expect to find you there each night from now on. Come on, move it boy. I ain't got all night." The southerner's words were so calm, so quiet. Toby apprehensively did as he was told; slowly sliding to the cold stone floor. He eyed Bagwell as he lowered himself into the other man's sheets, the metal structure creaking as he did.


	43. Chapter 43

The following morning, Toby awoke with a start as the buzzers sounded. His eyes snapped open to find the dark eyes of T-Bag's staring right back. "Have a nice dream did ya, Sunny?" Toby had twisted around in the middle of the night, stomach to stomach with Bagwell; his arms wrapped around the predator and legs intertwined. Toby struggled out of the blanket entanglement to land roughly on the cement. T-Bag laughed as he languidly tossed the sheets aside and shifted to set his feet on the floor. He leaned forward, eyes forever on Toby's. "I woke this mornin' to ya grindin' against me, gruntin' and carryin' on behind them eyelids. So, tell me, what was it you was dreamin' about, boy?"

"I don't remember." Toby pawed at his sleepy eyes.

"Sure ya don't." Bagwell smiled, rising from the bunk to start his morning routine. Piss, shave, bother Toby. Problem was that Toby really couldn't remember what he had been dreaming about. All he knew was that he had a major case of morning wood and that T-Bag believed he was hiding the truth of his dream from him. Not that it mattered what that bastard thought, anyway.

Breakfast was a blur for Toby. He stared into space, silently distraught over the failed escape. He wanted to pretend like it was fine, like he could cope, but his hopes were crushed. Living the next ten years with Bagwell, hanging on his pocket like a pet on a leash, that was a true torture. It was more than T-Bag though...it was the time. Toby could deal with being the man's bitch, but for how long? He doubted if he could last ten years, mentally nor physically. His plate of gruel untouched, the group of Nazi's eventually disbanded. Leaving Bagwell and Toby at the table. The silence drew Toby from his thoughts, finding T-Bag again staring at him.

"What?" Toby croaked, his voice caught in a dry throat.

"Eat. You're lookin' sickly." The southerner commanded, relaxing into his plastic chair.

"What do you care?" Toby grumbled, picking up his fork. Twisting it in his grip.

"I don't." Bagwell sat up, placing an elbow on the table. "But you are no use to me dead."

"Yeah," He scoffed. "Like I'm not replaceable."

"Replaceable? Hell, there are a dime a dozen of you pretty boys. Having to train a whole new bitch, while in the middle of this escapin' business...that's a task I'd rather not trouble with. Now eat." He shoved the platter closer to his boy's hunched form, slopping a bit of applesauce onto the table. With a sigh, Toby stabbed a processed chunk of what was supposed to be a sausage patty. Bagwell made him clear the plate entirely before he led them back to the block. It had begun to rain outside, so the inmates were given an extra long tier time rather than sloshing about the muddy yard.

Inmates were everywhere, lounging on the rails, on the stairs, against cell doors. They stood in small clusters or roamed from group to group, catching up on the prison gossip and starting rivalries. It was loud as each voice strove to be heard above the others. Toby followed Bagwell as he made his rounds, business for some and threats for others. He kept on top of his group, knowing what everyone was doing and who they were doing it to. "Bagwell, infirmary." Bellick ordered, cuffs already in his hand.

"Looks like its my turn to play with the doctor." He smiled, turning away from his current conversation. Toby let his hand fall from the cloth as his tormentor was led away. The way T-Bag talked about the doc would make you think she was handing out happy endings to every con that walked through her door. It was sick and twisted, though that was Bagwell for you. Toby shook his head, making his way to his cell.

"Hey, Sunny. You want a drink?" A forced whisper called from a sheet covered cell. One of Bagwell's underlings stuck his head out, beckoning the boy. "We made some toilet wine. Good shit, too. You are one of us so..." He shrugged, ducking back behind the sheet. From inside, Toby could hear other voices seemingly happy. They muttered and chuckled, trying to be quiet enough to not attract the attention of the guards to their little soiree. Though the pigs would likely never bother to check it out; they were circled around a small tv in their viewing room watching some sports match.

It had been ages since Toby had had any alcohol. With a little one running around their tiny apartment, he didn't trust himself to keep her out of trouble when under the influence. He had abstained for a long time. So, with a shrug he dipped behind the curtain as well, finding a group of four guys drinking foul smelling liquid from tin cups. All smiles and rosy cheeks. The one who'd spoken to Toby plunged another tin into the mix inside the toilet bowl. Toby took it, sniffing the stuff suspiciously. They did make it in a prison toilet...

It had a powerful burn to it. It made Toby cough and sputter like it was he was a teen with his first sip of alcohol. The group laughed, all having drank their fair share already. "Come on, Sunny, don't be a pussy." A tall bald Aryan with a thick goatee, clapped a meaty hand around the small man's shoulders. Toby took another swig, swallowing the burn and holding in his cough. He didn't know why, but he wanted to fit in. He wanted to be seen as just another guy having a drink. He wanted to impress them. For all their backwards views and antics, Toby wanted them to accept him.

The toilet wine hit fast, the drunken warmth spread through Toby's limbs. Even his fingertips had a fuzzy feeling. He could feel his mind sink under water. His world rocked like the sea around him, but it felt good. With all the stress and fear of living in Fox River, Toby needed this. He needed a chance to just let the alcohol relax him and finally feel alright. He sighed, taking another swig and emptying his tin. The men around him joked and laughed. They smiled at him, drunk but happy to include him.

"Hand me your cup, boy." The man, that called Toby in, asked. He had a thick black swastika on the side of his neck that distracted Toby's drunken mind more than his mouth of dirty dying teeth. Toby blinked, drawing himself back to what was going on. He smiled, stretching his hand out to give the man his tin.

"Thanks, guys. This is great." Toby slightly slurred, beaming at the four men around him. They patted his back, laughing and calling him a light weight. Hell Toby felt drunker than these men looked and they had been drinking before he had gotten in here. They kept exchange looks between each other, like a secret Toby wasn't privy to.

"Drink up." The racist smirked, handing Toby back his refilled cup. Lost in the murky galaxy of alcohol, Toby couldn't see the change in these men. How their laughter turned to sinister chuckles, their smiles to wide foreboding grins, and their drunk hooded eyes now filled with lust and anger. They were tired of being the have nots, while Bagwell sat on high with his boy at his feet. Toby slurped down more alcohol, blind to vicious glances he was getting. He rocked, unsteady on his feet; excited looks being tossed around him like a game of keep away. They were always gone by the time Toby found their faces in the sea world he was floating in.

"Hey...I, I don't think I should drink anymore..." Toby slurred, shuffling toward the sink to pour the remainder of his cup down the drain. Upon the edge sat a packet of powder that Toby had never seen the likes of before. "What's that?" He teetered back, nearly falling as he pointed to the unknown substance.

"That's a little something to help make you a little more manageable, Sunny." The Purity member named Shiv stepped up behind Toby, chortling at the boy's confused expression as he clumsily spun around.

"You drugged me?" Toby pressed a hand to his spinning head, unable to grasp the amount of danger he was in. Drugs did explain why no one else was getting as messed up as he was. "But...why?" The group laughed and Toby finally took in the looks he'd been missing. Fear and panic surged inside him but it was too late. He was nearly to the back of the cell with four large men between him and freedom. It would have been a daunting task for a sober him, let alone drunk and drugged.

Shiv shoved Toby, and not all that hard. He didn't need to use much force. Toby lost his balance and tumbled to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Toby screeched, the fall seeming to last forever in his slo mo vision. When he hit the ground, his head ricocheted with the force of his own weight and gravity. It only muddled his thoughts more and he groaned, feeling sick to his stomach with terror. This was the end. It had to be. No one survived these sort of things. He rolled to his side, like a turtle on its back. Toby finally got to his hands and knees, finding that his aggressors had utilized the time to remove their pants.

"You guysh dun wanna do thish." Toby put a hand on the table edge, trying to lift himself from the ground. He felt so heavy. "T-Bag'll kill you..." The group closed in tighter, strangling the precious space around Toby.

"I think we do want to do this. T-Bag won't know what happened because you've got quite a bit of roofies in your system, Sunny." The tall man with the goatee sneered, pulling Toby from the ground by the front of his shirt. "You're gonna forget it all." Spittle fell all over the young man's face, as he blinked away the blurry edges and double vision creeping into the monstrous expressions around him. Then the man tossed him away.

Toby fell into the arms of another terrifying face, as his pants were yanked around his ankles busting the button from the fabric. Toby's mind focused in on the soft plink of the plastic button bouncing along the ground; his body being dragged back down to the cement. Suddenly, a hand smashed against his cheek, forcing Toby to look Shiv in the eyes. Those evil, angry eyes. Toby whimpered, struggling to not go under. To not black out. He couldn't run if he wasn't conscious.

"Open wide, boy." Shiv sneered, smushing Toby's cheeks forward to open his mouth. Then all Toby felt was pain. Someone behind him forced their way inside as Shiv entered his face. Toby thrashed in agony, only to be met with attacks to his ribs by the two not yet in on all the 'fun'. Toby groaned passed the dick in his throat, sure that there was blood coming up. Not that Shiv cared as he thrust as deep as he could, again and again. Toby gagged and he couldn't breathe. His breath caught in his lungs, unable to escape, for every motion Toby made hurt like nothing he had felt before. Even attempting to breathe wracked him with searing pain.

Jizz covering Toby's face and ass, the monsters switched and Toby felt his world begin to muffle. As the second round began, Shiv knelt beside the bloody boy to whisper in his ear; "This is a message from Trokey, bitch." No sooner had his mouth left the small man's ear, did a dull shank drag across his back. The cut was deep and long, stretching from one shoulder blade to the bottom rib on of the other side. The pain began to ebbed, even as his body was jerked one way or another and the wound weeped streams of red. The roofies' effects poured in over the edges of his vision, spinning the room faster and faster until it all just disappeared.


	44. Chapter 44

T-Bag swaggered into the cell block, chuckling under his breath about the way that little minx of a doctor had reacted to him. He played her like a fiddle. It was always easy to get under her skin. She was an open book of Daddy issues and drug problems. He'd taunted and scolded and angered her to no end. The sexual advances to each touch she was forced to administer to him was a pleasure of its own sort. She paled so sickly white with disgust and fear. Nothing was so sweet a feeling as making her so uncomfortable...well, unless you counted his boy's delicious attributes.

Bagwell rounded the open bars of his cell to find the place empty. Sunny had never been this stupid before. He knew he was supposed to be waiting for T-Bag's beckon call like a good pup. Anger boiled in the man's stomach as he spun on his heel to hunt the little fucker down. He'd have to give the boy another lesson. He was such a stubborn bitch. Always breaking rules and getting himself into trouble. T-Bag searched the usual places and suspects. Sunny was nowhere near the Old Head, nor Pretty. Tweener was all alone in his cell, attempting to rhyme his way out of this hell hole. His boy was not suicidal enough to make the mistake of wandering into unknown territory on his own; not after the misadventures of his day away from Bagwell.

The convicts weren't allowed out of the block for anything short of dying, so T-Bag knew Sunny was hiding out in one of the cells. He could narrow out all the Blacks and Hispanics, as the Purity would never let his bitch get too close to those kind. Bagwell started on marching by the open cells. Each empty cell only fed the rage churning in his abdomen. Already his fingers itched to cut the boy and make him bleed. Make him whimper and plead for his protector to stop. Sunny's little noises drove T-Bag crazy. It was like a song played just for Teddy's listening pleasure.

He almost passed right by a cell with a sheet hanging in the doorway, but something in his gut told him to take a look. Back peddling a few steps he slid his fingertips around the edge of the sheet, pulling it open just enough to see inside. There lie in the middle of the floor, the still form of his boy; pants around his ankles and his t-shirt sliced open. Toby was covered in dry cum and blood, his breathing irregular. It hitched in his chest, ragged and painful. The small man's wounds, for the most part, hidden under his clothing. The traitors had tried to make that attack, although brutal, practically unnoticeable. Short of internal bleeding, Toby would not go to the infirmary. His back had already stopped bleeding and as long as he was careful, the authorities would never have to know.

Looking around, Bagwell slid into the cell. He perused the crowds for prying eyes before letting the sheet fall back into place. In the gloom, T-Bag crouched beside his boy assessing the damage that had been done. Some one had gone to great trouble to get a hold of Sunny. There were other boys much more easily accessed if one needed the company, but Toby was rarely alone. With a clenched jaw, Bagwell tapped his prag but Toby only groaned in his sleep. Pain laced over his dozing expression, bubbling under the surface.

"Get your ass up, Boy." Bagwell growled, leaning over Toby. He dragged the young man to his feet, startling him from his slumber in the process.

"What? Ahh." Toby hissed, his head spinning and body aching as he tried to make heads or tails of what was going on. His mind was groggy, like a smog filled the space where his day had been. "What...Where am I?" Toby tried again. He looked around the empty cell, mind reeling.

"You're in Red's old cell, Sunny. Man's been sent to solitary, which begs to question...Why was you in here?" T-Bag leaned Toby against a wall, taking of his jacket to cover his boy's back. He couldn't have to pigs messing with him on their way back to their cell. Toby gripped his battered torso, unsteady on his feet.

"I...I don't know. It's all a blur." Toby furrowed his brow, concentrating on the missing memories. "I remember you leaving for your check up...and, what did I do, I...I was going to go back to the cell..."

"Now, don't strain yourself." Bagwell sneered, rolling his eyes. He pulled Toby from the wall, shouldering his mass to half carry the boy across the block to their cell. They couldn't be caught there when the cells closed. Toby was so tired, he had a hard time staying upright. It seemed like everyone watched Bagwell half drag his boy across the block. Hundreds of eyes, followed the duo. Toby tried not to look but they were everywhere. All, but a small group of Purity members, watched in morbid curiosity at what had happened to Sunny this time.

It felt strange to Toby that out of all people to be uninterested in the scene, it was Aryans. T-Bag's family, as he put it. His stomach froze, cold and heavy, when a tall goateed man glanced in his direction before continuing in their conversation. Toby's mind still muddied by the drugs couldn't find why he felt so chilled by the man. The watchful eyes dissipated; while Bagwell sat Toby in the chair by the table of their cell. Interest lost, as Toby was evidently fine enough to not need medical attention. Everyone returned to whatever they had been doing before. Not that they ever stopped their talking and carrying on. No, they merely watched out of the corners of their eyes; never letting on that they were distracted.

"You best start talking, Boy. What the fuck happened?" T-Bag slammed his hands on the edge of the table behind Toby's chair. His face inches from the younger man's and full of anger. It was so odd to see that expression and have it not aimed at maiming him.

"I don't know, honestly." Toby muttered, uncomfortable and pained. Bagwell slapped Toby out of the chair. Standing over him like a god preparing for a smiting.

"Don't lie to me, Sunny." T-Bag growled, spitting his razor into his hand. Toby backed against the concrete wall; hands pressed against the floor. The more Toby tried to remember, the worse his head throbbed. He just couldn't seem to get passed whatever was blocking the memories. "Who fucked with my property?" Bagwell kneeled in front of Toby, placing his free hand on the wall by his head. The razor danced in front of the young man's eyes, Bagwell whispered ultimatums haunting his drug addled mind.

"I don't...T-Bag, I'm serious..." Toby stuttered, terrified of even more pain to be bestowed upon him. His head felt like a balloon with way too much air. He was going to pop any second now. Toby squeezed his eyes shut, wracking his brain for anything. Suddenly, the man that had glanced at him in the cell block, that goateed Nazi, surged to the front his mind. Along with him came the hollow feeling in the pit of Toby's stomach.

He inwardly grimaced, his body suddenly so cold. Toby shivered at the memory; another one surfacing in reaction. This memory was one that shouldn't be there. Toby could see in his mind's eye a blurry sink and powder and its baggy upon an aluminum foil square. He heard the laughter and the whispers. It faded away to be replaced with a whole new level of migraine. "I was drugged!" The young man screeched, as the razor sliced a short distance along his cheek. It stung like a paper cut, but was nothing. Compared to the usual cuts Bagwell administered, it was a nick. "I remember...there was alcohol." Toby closed his eyes again, trying to recall all he could. "I think they slipped something into it."

"They, who? Boy, give me something useful." T-Bag's southern twang grew thicker as his anger rose. His free hand cupped the side of his boy's face forcefully. He'd made a promise to keep Sunny safe when he offered his pocket. Now, he had to make it right. Bagwell hadn't kept his boy from the mongrels they lived amongst. He'd make a real statement with the mangled corpses soon to turn up. Toby tried again, dredging up anything he could grasp.

"I remember laughter...had to be three or four people." Toby's dropped open as he connected the dots. "T-Bag...they were Purity."

Bagwell released his boy's face to smash his fist against the wall. He jerked to his feet, kicking the chair across the cell. He'd been betrayed and disrespected by his own family. They would pay dearly for their insolence. Toby dropped his face into his hands, his head ached so badly. _This is a message from Trokey, bitch._

"Shiv. He was there.." Toby struggled to maintain the image in his head. "I can't...quite make out the other guys..." He felt his heart beat pound at the back of his eyes, losing the memory to the pain. His fierce breathing strained his bruised and probably fractured ribs. Toby coughed, spitting specks of blood into his hand. Bagwell offered him a hand and helped the younger man to his feet. He was guided to T-Bag's bunk and dumped into the thin mattress.

"That's good enough. boy." T-Bag leaned in the open cell doorway, all too calm and collected suddenly. He played with the gunk under his fingernails, as Toby allowed himself to be washed into unconsciousness. Bagwell could still hear the faint hiccups of breath caught by busted ribs. That boy had been nothing but trouble from day one. Bagwell slid out of the cell and slunk to the far side of the block. He kept an eye to the crowds, watching closely at his own Family. None were to be trusted, right now.

He knew how to make a man give him names. He just needed a little time to do his thing. For that, T-Bag rapped heavily on his CO gate and was met with the cold face of Bellick as the door swung open.

"What you want, T-Bag?" The badge sneered trudging the few feet of chain link tunnel, to meet Bagwell by the closed gate. The southerner gripped the metal in a fist, leaning against the barrier, green bills presented to the crooked guard.

"I got some messy business to be taken care of and I would much appreciate it if, say...there were some logical reason as the why certain inmates would go after each other." Bagwell smirked, business as usual on the surface.

"It'll take more that a couple bills to make a problem like that go away..." Bellick smiled as T-Bag's slid from his face. The predator squared off from the other side of the metal.

"Fine." He clenched his jaw. "You'll get the rest after my 'problem' has gone away." He growled, letting the bills dropped through the fencing into the pig's waiting hand.

"Have fun." He spun on his heel and headed back to watch the end of the game.

"Always do, Boss. Always do." Bagwell chuckled darkly, turning toward the crowds and locking eyes with that pitiful rat, Shiv.


	45. Chapter 45

All too soon the morning buzzer sounded. Toby awoke with a start, shivering with fear. Every time his eyes closed he was brutalized by monsters, always on the brink of killing him. He seemed to wake just before death, each night. That was the only difference Toby could find between reality and fiction; the monsters in his head couldn't finish the job.

Bagwell shifted behind him, pulling their bodies closer. Toby tensed and pulled away, forgetting the man was behind him. Last Toby remembered was being interrogated by the southerner. The fact that he had slept all the way through lights out was mind boggling. "Ya made me look weak, boy..." T-Bag whispered hoarsely into Toby's ear, sleep weighing heavily on each syllable. "Made it look like I couldn't protect my property..." Toby felt ice form in his stomach, a shudder winding its way through his body.

"S-sorry, T-Bag. It won't happen again." The boy stared wide-eyed at the concrete wall across from him, afraid to move or even breathe.

"Damn sure it won't, Sunny. I dealt with our problem. Cost me a pretty penny, too." Bagwell yawned, arching against Toby. "Ya keep costing me more and more." He chuckled softly, his voice slurring slightly as he began to drift off. Toby blinked, unsure what to make of the new information. He couldn't quite decide if T-Bag was angry with him or not. Toby grunted, pulled himself to a seated position on the bunk. He sighed, rubbing the sleep from his droopy eyes.

"I'm...I'm not your property, T-Bag." Toby mumbled, hearing the man shift on the mattress.

"Wanna run that by me again, Sunny? I thought I heard something stupid come flying out of that pretty mouth of yours." Bagwell sat up, fully awake and leaning inches from Toby, his weight pressed onto one hand. Toby jumped off the bed, keeping his back against the far wall.

"I am a person. Not an item to bought or sold." Toby clenched his jaw, thoughts jumbled like a car crash. "I'm not property." T-Bag stood slowly, a dark look covering his face.

"Choose your next words real carefully, boy. Despite what you think, I can make your life much worse." Each word was measured and spiteful. Toby wanted to have the courage to tell T-Bag to shove it up his ass. That he wasn't going to hold that hillbilly's pocket if the whole block could just rape him anyway. He wanted to just let it out but, in the end, he knew that he would never make it without Bagwell. He just wanted some reassurance, to know if he was going to make it with the backwards Fuck. That what was taken from him would be worth it in the end.

"Nothing, T-Bag..." Toby sighed, dragging his hand through his hair.

"Mhmm," Bagwell slicked his lower lip before drawing into his mouth. His dark eyes dancing with unrequited lust. "That's what I thought, Sunny." The man pushed away from the bunks to begin his morning routine. Piss. Shave. Bother Toby. During which, the young man stood at the cell doors. He just stared up at the florescent lights as they flickered, worn out and ready for replacement.

"Count!" The doors slid open, pulling the metal from the small man's grasp.

* * *

The clouds were heavy and dark, as trying to suffocate the dreary souls beneath them. Toby wanted to just let go, give in, allow the clouds to snuff his candle out. Death washing away the pain and forcing the bleak memories to become mere dark days of a past never to resurface. It felt like ages since he could just...be. Open and unafraid. Those feelings seemed like fiction these days, but, through the blanket of depression, Toby held onto the hope that in the future he would be able to find them again.

At present though, the young man was being dragged across the yard by his captor. Bagwell's brisk pace jerked Toby's arm every now and then, to be met by fierce shivers of pain as the long scab on his back complained. It drew Toby's mind to the men who had drugged him. He still couldn't remember much. It haunted him to know that he could've looked them in the eye and never have seen what resided there. Toby focused on the fabric in his hand. It had been an agreement. His body to T-Bag's pleasures for protection against the rest of the filth in these walls. Promises broken.

Toby knew that he should walk away. Never to touch the pocket nor its owner again. Bagwell had not come through on his end of the bargain, but though logic said walk, Toby knew deep down that without this hillbilly he wouldn't make it to his parole hearing. Even in failure, T-Bag had proved resourceful. He set things as right as he could. Four bodies, murdered in the night, and supposedly by each other, were found. Now rotting in prison morgue. The men that had attacked Toby had been dealt with, as Bagwell said in their cell that morning. His prison rep maintained through the swift revenge. No one bought the CO's story and Toby doubted the vicious southerner's rule would be threatened. Thoughts disrupted, Toby caught voices he knew from the thrum of yard conversation.

"...He doesn't even know what happened." Michael slumped in the bleachers, his jacket pulled tight around his body to block the wind accompanying the oppression grey overcast.

"He knows you tried." Sucre responded.

"Do you think so...?" Michael all but whimpered.

"He's your brother. He knows you. So, yes." He brought his head up to look his friend in the eye.

"I promised I would get him out of here." Michael sighed, the weight of his failed attempt on his shoulders. Toby trudged after Bagwell onto the scene, breaking through a group that had stood between them. T-Bag tossed carelessly the baseball he had been toying with back for Toby to catch, not bothering to aim. Toby stumbled back a few steps to manage it, breaking contact with Bagwell. The man didn't seem to notice.

"Ya promised a lot of people, Pretty." T-Bag hopped up the first level of benches.

"Look, enough man. Alright?" Sucre shook his head, warily watching the pedophile.

"This don't concern you, Boy." Bagwell sneered, following the narrow plank to stand directly in front of Scofield. "Ya don't get a man's hopes up like that and then just..."

"Back up or I'll beat your skinny ass into the ground. " Sucre stood, angrily protected his friend. "And it wouldn't take much to do it."

"Alright, Ladies, Rec time is over!" Toby looked over his shoulder to the pig shouting by the gates.

"You owe me a ticket outa here, Pretty." Bagwell rolled his shoulder, motioning for his ball back. "And I will collect." Toby tossed it from his position on the grass below the group. He was grateful for the timing, or this confrontation would have gone to blows. Backing down the levels,with a look of unquieted anger, T-Bag spun his heel and pulled out his pocket. Toby glanced back up at the other two for a second before taking hold of his leash. He couldn't imagine the way Michael had to have been feeling. Nor did he want to. To have had the life of his brother in his hands and drop the ball...he couldn't fathom what he would do.

Reentering the cell block, Toby was deposited in his cell while Bagwell made his rounds. As soon as the man was out of sight, Toby dropped onto the bunk. His head in his hands and feet pounding out a rhythm on the concrete floor. He released a long breath, trying to shake the heaviness in him. It was like he'd been turned to stone. Numb and cold, sinking fast in the waters. Thoughts of his mother sprung up in his mind. Never having mourned her death; he squeezed his eyes shut and bit back the tears. His body and mind flooded with an all new type of pain. He felt physically ill, mentally drained. Then memories of Cherry plagued his poisonous cocktail of emotions. Like the roar of the ocean in his ears, Toby visualized his friend's end.

Blanket tight around his neck, eyes north to freedom. Air beneath his feet, body swinging at the end of his line. He hadn't waited for his life to be taken from him. No Cherry took it back from the monsters that reside here. He chose what would happen to him, the power was all his again. For that moment between being Avocado's toy and sweet freedom, Toby's friend flew. It sounded so sweet, like a dream. Toby almost wanted to climb those steps himself, but he couldn't.

His freedom lay in the arms of a little girl. Though that freedom was far away in both time and space, Toby could see it. The light at the end of his tunnel. Cherry had not had that light. Hell, Toby doubted if there was family nor friends enough on the outside to give the boy a funeral. He was laid to rest in Toby's heart, as it were, and there he would stay. His mother as well. There was nothing he could do for them, but he could live in their honor. It brought to mind a saying his father used to toast whenever he would drink a little too much.

'Stand to your glasses steady and drink to your comrades' eyes. A toast to the dead already and hurrah for the next man to die.'

Toby was startled from his somber thoughts as Tweener rushed in, sweating bullets. "What's wrong, David?" Toby tried to calm is thundering heart.

"Yo, like Bellick, man. Dawg's jumping down my throat. Dude wants dirt on Scofield, says I gots to get intel by the end of the day or a hundred dollars." The boy turned his back to Toby, resting his forehead on the concrete. He mumbled into the wall, afraid to face his friend. "Otherwise, my ass is getting a new celly...one that's gonna really like me, ya know?"

Toby's mouth moved but nothing came out. He wanted to comfort the kid, to tell him it was all going to be okay. He wanted to, but if Tweener had gotten on the wrong side of Bellick there was little he could do. Toby had been moved in with Bagwell in practically no time flat and that had been before Bellick hated him. "What are you going to do?" He finally uttered.

"I gots to tell him something. There's no way I can get that kind of dough in a day, yo." Tweener faced Toby, wiping his nervous, clammy hands on his clothes.

"Well, do you have anything to even tell him about?" Toby leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. Interested for more than one reason and not all of them noble. On the one hand, he didn't want his friend going through what he was; on the other, he too needed to have something to give Bagwell. The rapist was convinced Michael had more tricks up his sleeve and anything Toby could turn over would save him from a beating.

"I don't know, Sunny, like I over heard some things between Old Head and Scofield but, like, its not anything big." He adjusted his trousers on his waist, pacing a few rounds before stopping again in front of Toby. "Look, I heard that...well, if something goes wrong with the chair then the man's brother gets another three weeks." He shrugged. Hidden beneath Toby's unmoved exterior, he was exploding. If Michael could get three more weeks, he could still break them out.

"Do what you have to do, David." Toby said, torn between the possible escape and the life of his friend. "Just be careful who you are indebted to. Okay?" Tweener nodded, hope swelling in his chest. He swung his arms, shaking out the knots in his shoulders, as a smile slid on his face.

"Yeah, cool." He bounced out the doorway. Toby stared at the wall ahead of him, trying to decide whether he just destroyed his way out.


	46. Chapter 46

**AN: Sorry, I know it's really short. I just wanted to be able to post something for you guys. The next one will be longer. Promise. :)**

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Toby fretted the rest of the day as the lights continued to dim and flicker each time they tested the chair. Like clockwork, it never faltered. So either Michael never attempted to break the take the chair out of commision or Bellick figured it out with a little help from Tweener. T-Bag seemed just as nervous as the night drew on. Toby had spilled the beans on the possibility of Lincoln making it another few weeks. So, Bagwell also kept his eyes to the ceiling silently tracking the surges of electricity. Lincoln's death would suck the juice out of the lights completely for almost, if not more than, a minute. They'd know it when the block went dark, but Toby willed with all his heart that something would go wrong. Though he'd like to pretend it was for Lincoln, his reasons were selfish. He wanted the little brother to have a chance to break them out. Toby sat on the floor by the bars till lights out staring into their yellow fluorescent glow. Waiting.

In the near darkness he rose to his feet, a sigh of release rushing passed his lips. Lincoln Burrows had not died that day and it was very unlikely that they would execute him this late at night. No, Burrows would live another day. Curious as he was about what happened, Toby was just happy he'd see that ugly mug again. Bagwell lounged on his bunk, watching Toby with that predatory gaze of his. Those cold, snake eyes made Toby's flesh crawl even before he faced the monster. In the near quiet of night, Toby could make out the howling of the wind outside the prison. It was probably a storm, having rolled in with all the freezing wind that day.

Toby carefully pulled his t-shirt from his torso, the wound on his back clutching at the fabric. The young man hissed, wadding up the shirt and chucking it under the table. His torso was covered in scars. It was strange to think that not too long ago he had shuffled into this hell hole not a mark on him. Lack of nutrition had also done its number; creating lines to define each muscle, his body eating all the fat it had stored. He found himself noting physical changes more and more these days. Instead of a calendar, he was marking the passing of time with the slow destruction of his body.

Again his skin crawled, Bagwell's impatient eyes wandering along the same torso Toby had been assessing. He loathed the way T-Bag made him feel, like a worm, lesser than all around him. Pulling his trousers off, he finally climbed into the bunk. Mere boxers separating the two men. Toby shivered as Bagwell's arms snaked around his body, drawing him into a tight spooning position. The older man dipped his face into the cradle of Toby's neck, nipping at the hot skin.

"I think we oughta hit them showers in the mornin', Sunny." He murmured, promising more embarrassment. The younger man felt the body behind him rock forward, grinding softly against him. Try as he might, his breathing still shook with anxiety. Bagwell ignored this, however, as he released Toby and rolled onto his back. Damage done. The young man stared at the wall ahead of him for hours as sleep eluded him.


	47. Chapter 47

Toby was still awake as the doors opened and the buzzers sounded. Bagwell had draped himself across the younger man's back in the night. He had lain there, perfectly still to the point of aching muscles. The thought of waking T-Bag in the middle of the night was not something he wanted to try out. Especially after the sickening insinuated threat about the showers that day. So, when the morning came, Toby slid as fluidly from the older man's grasp as he could, hopefully leaving his captor still peacefully sleeping.

It was almost creepy to see Bagwell asleep. He had none of the evil in him that you saw when he was alert. His face relaxed, eyes twitching behind his lids as dreams danced in his cranium. Toby couldn't see a single expression on that face that he recognized. In his sleep, the monster actually smiled. Not the smirks or lascivious grins he gave Toby, but smiles that one might give a child they adored. Maybe Bagwell was dreaming of his lost loved ones, like Jimmy and his son. Those two seemed to be the only thing human that had remained in the twisted southerner. And now they were gone.

Toby pressed his hands to his eyes, yawning. They felt dry and pained. The lack of sleep made them ache with every direction he turned them. Shaking his head, he let his hands fall to his sides with a sigh. Reopening his eyes, he found his peace had reached its end. Bagwell stared up at the small man with a groggy, sleep addled glare. There was the T-Bag Toby knew. Toby turned away from the icy look. Instead, he peered at himself in the mirror behind the sink. He looked so different from the day he arrived in this place. His face had grown hard, gaunt. His collarbone jutted from underneath the collar of his t-shirt and his skin contained a whole menagerie of scars. Toby couldn't help but see the cracks forming behind his eyes, like he was slowly being hollowed out by prison life. He had to wonder if by the time he got out of that wretched place if he would even be him anymore.

The bunks creaked behind Toby, as Bagwell shifted around to sit on the edge. Toby could see in the reflection that he too was looking at Toby. Probably making very different assessments to the quality of the younger man's body and soul. T-Bag rose to his feet, stretching languidly like a feline. Toby could almost see his yawn match that of a lion's roar. Everything about T-Bag was predator.

Toby shifted uncomfortably under Bagwell's gaze. Staring straight ahead, into the mirror; afraid to let T-Bag know that he had been looking at him. "You already look pretty, boy, now get outa my way.." The southerner pushed passed Toby to get to the toilet in the corner. And Toby did as he was told, tip toeing around the older man to the front of the cell, waiting for count to be called.

After which, Bagwell insisted they head for the showers. Toby did feel grimy, but he knew he would feel worse after T-Bag was through with him. There was no getting clean under those nozzles. Reluctantly, he snatched up his towel and change of clothes and followed the rapist out of the cell. The guards opened the door out of the block, smirking at the two with knowing smiles. The guards knew all there was to know about the late night activities of the convicts they watched over. Some even made sport out of it, like Bellick and his fish auctions. They would make bets on how long the new guys would go before their pants were around their ankles. Sometimes Toby would wonder what they had bet on him, but at the same time would never really want to know.

The whole walk from cell block to locker room, Bagwell had a lopsided grin plastered on his smug face. It disgusted Toby, how he reveled in enforcing pain. Just thinking about it made him sick to his stomach, for if the monster was this proud of himself in this restrictive chains-and-shackles jail...Toby didn't want to think about how he was on the outside. Free reign on what ever prey he wanted, to do whatever he pleased whenever he pleased. It no longer surprised Toby, the things he'd done to those kids in Alabama. In fact, that seemed exactly the kind of thing an angry Theodore Bagwell would do.

Toby tried to look nowhere but at his toes when he removed his clothing. Though he could feel the eyes of others around him. None as bothersome as those of the leering pedophile resting against the lockers with nothing but a towel to cover him. Toby made the mistake of glancing up, only to receive a sinister wink. T-Bag knew that his boy was going through the motions at snail pace. Trying to prolong the festivities as long as possible. Not that it mattered. The ending was still going to be the same. Toby dropped the final article of clothing into the wash bins, his arms doing their best to cover him and failing. He had never felt so self conscious till prison. Now, all he did was try to shrink into the background.

Bagwell flicked his head, gesturing for Toby to make his way into the showers. He did as he was ordered, not wanting to incite a beating. Shuffling into the showers, the young man headed for a nozzle farthest away from anyone else in the room. He knew he couldn't rid himself of an audience, but he did his best to make them less noticeable. This was going to difficult enough as it was with out some idiot cheering T-Bag on. Toby just wanted it over with as quickly as possible. Under the spray of the scalding water, Toby squeezed his eyes closed as he waited for Bagwell's body to come up behind him. It seemed to take forever. Despite the anxious turmoil rolling in his gut, Toby couldn't help but enjoy the warmth of the water cascading over his head and shoulders. He could feel the rivulets rushing down the ridges of his spine and along the planes of his chest. The heat of it all was actually relaxing the tension of the gash, still healing ever so slowly across the width of his back. Toby brushed his sopping locks out of his face, tilting his chin up into the stream.

From behind him he heard the slap of feet on wet concrete, ruining the calm he had procured. Again the feelings of despair accosted him. Toby wished he could have stayed in the moment just before Bagwell materialized against his back. That singular moment where the world faded away, but no. This was his reality.

Toby let his hands fall to his sides, as the monster leaned into his body. T-Bag would draw this out, forcing another anecdote into Toby's nightmares. He would play with the younger man's fears, making him buckle under the pressure. Bagwell enjoyed making Toby do things he was repulsed by, he liked ordering and beating Toby into submission. Without turning around Toby slid his hand between their bodies, taking hold of his tormentor's flaccid dick. T-Bag froze at the touch, not having expected his toy to make the first move. Toby utilized that moment of confusion, sliding his hand from base to tip of the older man's penis.

His thumb circled around the head, as the man grew hard. His strokes slow and firm, never fully removed his finger from the tip. Bagwell grunted, pressing a hand to the wall beside Toby's head. T-Bag bit onto Toby shoulder, drawing blood that was instantly washed away. Toby grimaced, stuttering his hand's movement. He had had no illusions of making it out of the showers unscathed. At least if he was controlling the situation to any degree, he'd be out of there as quickly as possible with as little damage as he could manage.

"Feelin' lonely were ya, Sunny?" Bagwell murmured into Toby's shoulder, recovering from his initially shock.

"Shut up." Bagwell chortled, enjoying the obvious discomfort in Toby's tense shoulders. He was no idiot; he saw what the younger man was up to. If he could get T-Bag's rocks off quickly enough he'd be able to shower and get out of their before his body could be thrown into the mix. T-Bag had other ideas, as if he would let his boy skate by on a quick hand job.

The older man stepped forward, pushing Toby out of the water and against the wall in front of him. Pulling at his bottom lip with his teeth, T-Bag ground out a rough groan as Toby's hand instinctively tightened around the older man's arousal when he fell against the stone wall. Bagwell thrusted into Toby's gripped as he shoved a finger inside the young man, drawing a yelp from his pink lips. "Best put them hands against the wall, boy." T-Bag smirked, pulling his hand from the young man's barely prepared body. Knowing he'd lost the battle, Toby let his hand be pushed aside as the distance between the two bodies ceased to exist. It was difficult to grip Toby's hips with the water slicking his skin.

Bagwell's fingers slid across his shivering flesh, both from the cold air and fear. Toby hated the pain that flared each time T-Bag took his body. Bagwell knew just how to hit Toby's sweet spot, how to make the boy make hundreds of noises and react so deliciously to him. The older man also could deny Toby that luxury and make the pain last. Toby always loathed himself afterward, but if he had to choose, he'd rather be left wanting than bleeding. Bagwell grinded his hips against Toby, thrusting himself into the smaller man. Tightening his jaw against the brutal sensations, Toby allowed his body to relax and give Bagwell what he wanted.


	48. Chapter 48

Having just returned to one of many horrible shower experiences in this joint, Toby shuffled. Sore and wanting so badly just to curl up in his bunk, but being denied by the ever so convenient Prison Industries calling for their workers. Bagwell giggled like a maniacal child when Toby groaned, turning to follow the rest of the group. It had snowed like crazy last night and now PI had to shovel and salt the grounds. The wind was the worst part of it all. If it had been just the cold Toby wouldn't have minded, but the wind cut through the fabric of his coat and PI jumpsuit so easily. Not to mention the worthless gloves they had been given.

"Man, I'm so cold my hands are stinging." Sucre voiced Toby's thoughts, as he piled another bag of salt into the wheelbarrow.

"Well, you know what they say about weather in the mid-west. If you don't like it, wait an hour." C-Note joked, following the Hispanic man back to the pile.

"We already been out here an hour." Bagwell scoffed, not used to this kind of weather in the slightest. Toby chuckled, shaking more salt onto the recently scooped pavement. Moving as slowly and carefully on the slick walkway, his sore ass not helping.

"So, Michael, your brother is okay. The lights didn't go all weird...I have to ask, we are still getting out of here right?" Toby piped up, having been dwelling on the subject for quite some time.

"We're still going out through the infirmary and we are still going to do it from the guard's room. It's just the in between that's going to have to change." Michael stopped shoveling.

"Wait a minute, why you changing the plan, Man?" C-Note complained, having just dropped another bag onto the pile. "We're already through that room beneath the infirmary. That's all we gotta do; is get through that pipe and we're home free."

"There's a reason they replaced it with a twelve inch pipe, Darwin." Michael sighed, tired of C-Note always fighting him over everything. "People can't get through it. The only way we are getting to that infirmary is from beneath. We're going to have to find another way." He continued staring pointedly at the front doors of a building Toby had hoped never to see the inside of.

"The psych ward?" Charles furrowed his brows.

"It's the only other building that shares a subsurface line with the infirmary." Michael stated. Toby and Bagwell shifted closer to the group and the winds attempted to swallow up Scofield's words.

"Ya tellin' me, to get to the infirmary we gotta go through the Wack Shack?!" T-Bag hissed, not believing what he was hearing.

"Unless you've a better idea..." Michael sighed.

"And there's a subsurface line that runs from the guard's room to the psych ward." Charles started piecing the plan together.

"Sort of." Michael twisted his hands around the handle of his shovel.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what do you mean sort of?" C-Note shook his head.

"We can go into that hole in the guard's room. At about 40-60 feet there's a grate that'll get us half way there."

"And what about the rest of the way?" Toby stepped into the circle.

"We have to do it above ground."

"Ah, so a bunch of cons taking a stroll in the middle of the night for all the guards to see." C-Note growled, frustrated. Michael nodded, as he began to shovel again on a new patch of sidewalk. Charles followed him over, dragging his shovel along.

"This grate you're talking about...it's hidden. Right, Partner? The CO's can't see anything." He worried.

"Not exactly." Michael smirked. "Sunny's standing on it." The whole group turning to look at the youngest member of their party and right below him was a grate much like the one they had climbed out of during their escape attempt. Only this one didn't have a giant drain room below it and it was in plain site for any guard to see. Toby gulped suddenly feeling his chances of getting out of here slipping through his fingers. Michael was nuts to consider this a plan.

"Oh, hell no." C-Note grumbled. "We come up outa that ground there and that tower there..."He looked around, secretly pointing as he went. "That tower over there and that tower behind me is going to see us. We be like ducks in a shooting range, you feel me. Your plan sucks, Snowflake."

"Hurry it up, Cons!" A couple of guard's walked over, noticing the lack of work coming from the group. They were all too wrapped up in the impossibility of Micheal's plan to remember to get shit done. Toby rushed to finished salting the areas already shoveled as the rest of them got what little was left to do. Once done, the guards that had been watching over them since they had stopped working, dragged them all back inside. Toby, for one, was glad to feel his fingers again.


	49. Chapter 49

Once in his cell Toby climbed up into his bunk, which was quite the task when every motion he made either unnerved the wound on his back or the throbbing pain in his ass. But having finally reached his perched; Toby relaxed into the thin mattress to stare at the ceiling. All he wanted to do was to catch up on the sleep he never got the night before. The snow had been flying nearly horizontal when they'd been ushered inside so Toby doubted he would need to leave his bed for anything other than food and count for the rest of the day.

"How ya feelin' Sunny? Saw ya havin' some trouble there." Bagwell stepped into the cell, relaxing against the wall opposite his boy. He snickered, knowing full well why Toby was having trouble climbing. "Should'a just popped into my bunk. Gonna have to be there before lights out, anyway."

"Don't you have anything better to do than give me a hard time..." Toby groaned, shifting just enough to look at T-Bag rather than the much more pleasant ceiling.

"My family has things handled. Seems they are tryin' a might harder since Shiv got himself ripped open." T-Bag laughed. Toby wasn't surprised they were trying harder to get Bagwell's approval. They probably all knew more about why Shiv was put down than Toby did. He still could barely remember more than bits and pieces of that day. Probably for the best though. T-Bag had had to murder four of his so called 'family' over it, so it had to of been horrendous. Toby nodded, looking back to the ceiling, counting the spaces where the white paint had chipped away. "What do ya like to do for fun, boy? Ya play cards?"

"Why? Do you want get to know me or something, T-Bag?" Toby sneered. Bagwell probably didn't even remember his real name. He was just Sunny the Fuck Toy.

"Don't get smart, boy. We ain't got nothing to do, so ya might as well be polite 'n play a game of poker with me." Bagwell pushed himself away from the wall, reaching under his bunk where he pulled a worn pack of cards form. "Now, get your ass down here." Toby groaned, not wanting anything but sleep.

"I've never played..." He admitted, finally making his way to the floor.

"Never played?!" Bagwell's eyes lit up. "Well, let me school ya a thing or two 'cause I happen to be king at this game. Rule one, it's all about lies." He smirked, shuffling the cards like one of those dealers you see in movies.

"No wonder you're good at this." Toby joked, pulling the chair over from the table.

"Exactly. Now, we're gonna play a version called Texas Hold 'Em..." T-Bag started in on one of the most animated explanations of game play Toby had ever been privy to. Royal Flushes, straights, pairs, and things to do with matching suits. Toby tried to take it all in, but he was sure he was forgetting it all almost as fast as it was coming at him. It took rounds of Bagwell destroying him before he realized why the man was so good.

"You are cheating, T-Bag." Toby threw his millionth shitty hand onto the bunk. "You are setting up the deck in your favor. This is bullshit!"

"Now you're getting' it, boy." Bagwell chuckled. "Poker ain't about fair play. It's about makin' everyone think how ya want them to and learnin' to read what they are tryin' to do to you. Best thing is, when ya play like I do no one can best you. I lived years on the money I swindled playin' this game."

"So what do you do when you aren't dealer?" Toby sat back on the chair.

"Bluff. That's all ya got. 'Less ya got aces in yer sleeves. Gotta be careful 'bout that. It's easy to get caught." T-Bag started shuffling the deck all over again.

"Well, I'm glad I wasn't putting money down. I would have owed you more than I've ever even seen." Toby snorted.

"Shame ain't it. I would'a liked holdin' some debt over your head."

"I'm sure you would've..." Toby sighed, rubbing his itchy eyes as Bellick called for evening count.


	50. Chapter 50

Though the snow still sat heavy on the grounds, inside the guard's room Toby was sweating like a tweaker in a rehab center. He'd been carrying wood and drywall from point A to point B for nearly an hour and he was huffing an puffing. He was fit to call it quits for a while when Bagwell tapped the clipboard on the metal door. Bulls and their magnificent timing. Toby heaved himself away from the wall, nearly trampling a post card that fell from C-Note's pocket.

"Hey, you dropped something." Toby stooped to pick it up for the guy, noticing that it had a photo of a beautiful mosque on the front. "Does this say Iraq?" Toby asked as C-Note yanked the card from his hand.

"Mind your business, Sunny." He stuffed to thing back into his pocket. Toby shook his head grabbing another sheet of drywall. "Shit, look at this." There was a hole in the wall they had just finished and concrete was flowing from it like sand.

"Damn, Bro. What did you do?" Sucre shook his head.

"You've got to be kidding me..." Toby set the sheets down, to take a closer look when Bellick stomped through the door. C-Note put his shoe over the hole, momentarily stoppering the concrete.

"My God. You cons are slower than a spelling bee full of stutterers." Bellick sneered, glaring at all the progress they had made. Not progress enough, Toby thought. "You think you can slow walk this job, play grab ass in here. Drag it out for months. Get to work."

"You got it, Boss." Westmoreland nodded, but nobody moved. They were too worried about the pile growing ever larger behind C-Note.

"How about, Eight Ball? Get to work." Bellick growled in C-Note's face.

"Oh, you know. Boss, my leg is killing me. It, uh, fell asleep." He grasped hold of his knee, wincing at the phantom pain it caused.

"You disobeying me, Convict." Bellick's voice dropped into a terrifying calm. If C-Note didn't start moving he was going to get beat. Suddenly, Charles shoved C-Note, stepping carefully in front of the hole.

"The man said get to work."

"What the hell is your problem, Old Head?!"

"My problem is young con punks who don't know how things work around here. Construction is a sweet gig. You want to scrub toilets be my guest; otherwise, grab a hammer." C-Note bowed his head in mock submission, nodding and going to the tools. Bellick grinned, mocking the loser.

"Still got some piss and vinegar in them old veins, huh, Charles." He commended, finally turning around to head out the door. "I like it." Bagwell swung the door shut behind the bull as everyone in the room sighed with utter relief.

"Close one, huh." Charles laughed stepping away from the hole. No sooner done, a large chunk busted out and rocks tumbled mercilessly from the gaping wound in the wall.

"You've got to be fucking joking." Toby ripped his hand through his sweaty hair. The relief briefly felt vanished, replaced by knots in his stomach. Toby was beyond frustrated. He wanted to throw shit. He wanted to scream, but he held it in. He always held in what he was feeling and it was beginning to be difficult. "I'm stepping out for some air." He panted in both anger and exasperation. Nobody paid attention. They didn't even hear him as they jumped into motion, flinging the rubble into the escape route.

The wintery air outside the metal door hit Toby like a wall. He sighed, enjoying the sensation of the sweat being whipped away. Bagwell's silhouette stood proud against the light of the snow glistening day beyond him. For a second, Toby considered turning around but he couldn't take being in that heat anymore. Pulling the zipper down a little further to let in more of the icy breeze, the young man shuffled to the front door. T-Bag hadn't taken notice, as he was wrapped up in whatever he was thinking about. He stared straight ahead into thin air.

"What you starin' at, Sunny?" Bagwell drawled still staring at the wind, obviously much more observant than Toby had assumed.

"I, uh, nothing." He shook his head, resting against the other edge of the door. "It was getting too warm in there." T-Bag smirked, looking sideways at the young man.

"Sure it was. You was all workin' hard to get that room fixed up. Real sweaty like, so ya needed to come take a breather with ol' T-Bag." He sniggered. "Makes perfect sense, don't it?"

"When you say it like that, it sounds like bullshit..." Toby sighed, trying to ignore the sexual air Bagwell had taken on.

"Enlighten me. How's it s'pose to sound, boy?" T-Bag leaned a little closer.

"It's supposed to sound like we almost got caught back there and all the labor we did do on the room now has to be redone. I, for one, was working on the room...multiple men, no air circulation, wearing too many layers, and lifting shit equals uncomfortable heat." Toby hissed, carefully looking around for any one that could have been listening. "Bulls." Two officers were making there way down the sidewalk arguing over some sports non-sense or another.

"Nah, it was the midwesterns..."

"Iowa. It was Iowa, right?"

"No, not Iowa. Hold on," Toby and T-Bag turned on their heels, trying to make it inside the room before the guards did. "Locke, Bagwell."

"Yes, Boss." Toby froze in place, about facing in an awkward, jerky fashion to face the two badges.

"Do you know what school Art Schlichter played for?" Stolte stepped into the doorway.

"I'm not really sure there, Boss." Bagwell took a few stepped forward, shaking his head. It looked like he was really thinking on it. Just like poker, T-Bag was all lies and bluffs. "I really ain't much of a football guy. Too much violence." He smiled. Too much violence. If Toby wasn't trying just as hard to get the bulls to go away, he'd have laughed at that.

"Come on, you know the guy I'm talking about. Art Schlichter, the quarterback. Got nailed for gambling." Stotle pressed.

"No, doesn't ring a bell." T-Bag tilted his head down, giving Toby a worried look.

"Bet if I asked you what his ass looked like you'd remember." Stotle jeered. Toby could feel his face flush red and his mouth drop open. Even though the statement had nothing to do with him, it was embarrassing to be standing there. Bagwell's eyes snapped to Stolte's and his jaw tightened. Had the bull been anybody else, T-Bag would have shanked him for insulting his intelligence. He didn't care what people thought of his recreational activities, but he would kill anybody who assumed that what he knew went hand in hand with what he did.

"Locke, you got any idea?" Toby started to shake his head no, but when the bull stepped around them to ask the cons inside the young man knew he had to say something. The guys in there were bound to be knee deep in incriminating evidence. "Ohio state." He rushed.

"That's right. He was a buckeye!" The blonde badge nodded smiling, releasing his hold on the door. "You're not completely worthless after all." He pushed between the two men again, to head on down the sidewalk. Toby bristled. He had made some bad decisions but worthless? That was low.

"Looks like you's more than just a fine piece of ass, eh, Sunny?" Bagwell laughed, patting the smaller man on the shoulder. That was as close to a thank you as Toby was going to get. Toby shrugged him off, stepping out into the wind again. He could almost feel his hair turn to sticks of sweat clotted ice. "You like football then, boy?" Bagwell sauntered up beside him. Toby shrugged, half turning away from the lascivious look in T-Bag's eye.

"High school." Toby mumbled.

"Oh, so you play.." Bagwell giggled. "Would your position have been tight end or receiver by any chance?" The hyena's eyes traveled the length of Toby's frame, lingering arrogantly on the young man's hips before finally returning to his face.

"Ha, ha, ha. Very funny, T-Bag. And no, it wasn't." Toby all but growled through clenched teeth. Bagwell only had two modes; angry and horny, and Toby seemed to have a knack for inciting both at the same time. Bagwell swung around the front of Toby, slammed his hands to the wall behind the smaller man.

"I take offense to your tone, boy, and I suggest ya make with the apologizin' for we ain't got but a few hours till it's just you and me in a very small cell." The southerner tilted his head, waiting for a response from his disrespectful bitch. Toby swallowed hard, repulsed by the stream of foul breath being blown in his face. He knew he had made a mistake. He'd made a lot of them over the course of this thing Bagwell had with him. There was no rule book, no orientation to getting along with a sadistic bastard that wants your ass. He was flying blind most of the time and sometimes T-Bag let him get away with talking back or speaking with out being spoken to first. Most of the time, Bagwell tolerated his solecism but apparently he was not in the mood today.

"Yeah, okay. Sorry, T-bag." Toby struggled to breathe in the cloud of Bagwell's breath. He pulled as far back as he could against the wall, trying to get away from the pedophile's looming form. He had a knot of anxiety forming in his stomach and T-bag knew it. Bagwell, with his eyes locked on Toby's, shifted closer for every squirm the young man made until their bodies were pressed together. Toby'd thought after all he'd been through, Bagwell wouldn't affect him like this. Make his heart beat right out of his chest and his breathing peak, his body vibrate with fear and stomach sink in freezing cold knots. But here he was, sandwiched between Bagwell and a wall, shaking like a leaf. He had not gained any numbness to the predatorial wiles of his captor. Instead he reacted exactly how T-Bag liked.

"Hey, you two. Stop playing with each other and go get the rest of the cons." CO Geary ordered from the concrete slab behind T-Bag. The older man sighed in frustration, flicking his head to the side, finally releasing Toby's eyes from his fiery gaze.

"Yeah, boss, no problem." Bagwell pushed himself away from the wall with a smirk at Toby. The young man doubled over, putting his hands on his knees to balance himself. Toby shuttered through long breathes trying to calm his body back into a sense of normalcy. After a second, he righted himself and shuffled over to head the line. Geary snorted, a shit eating grin plastered all over his face. Like his best friend, Bellick, he thought that the torture and rape involved in the prison system was a good punishment for the evil doers. That Toby deserved what he was getting.

Somewhere deep inside, Toby agreed. He had killed a man, he deserved punishment. Maybe even deserved to be somebody's bitch, but T-Bag had done so much worse that Toby and he seemed to never have to take responsibility for his actions. Whether it be in or out of prison, that man had done nothing but destroy and Toby had never seen him actually suffer. Unless you count that he was in fact incarcerated, though he seemed to be making light of that as well. It was twisted that such a man would have it so easy. On the outside, Toby had heard horror stories about what happened to pedophiles and rapists in prison but they apparently didn't apply to Fox River. This prison did nothing but reward the wicked.

You raped your way into a jail cell? Here, torture this young man. You sold drugs to the masses? How about you do the same here, might even enjoy taking on some smuggling action as well. It was a false system. No one here just served time to repay a debt to society. They didn't come out of this animal factory ready to be better citizens. No, they got worse. They were cultivated into the worst monsters you could imagine, inside these walls.

Toby stared at the cracked and sometimes crumbling concrete pathway as the group was led inside, pondering what it was that made such horrible people. What was it that would make T-Bag do the things he has done? Toby realized he knew basically nothing about Bagwell other than his crimes. He never spoke of the good old days. The only time Toby ever saw his tormentor happy was when he was on the phone with Jimmy. Even that slice of happiness was taken away by this prison. Toby couldn't help but wonder what T-bag had been like before his first stint in the correctional system. How much worse did the bars and handcuffs make Theodore Bagwell? Toby just hoped they wouldn't turn him into a monster too.


End file.
